


Bones McCoy and the Raiders of the Lost Temple

by abigail89, starry_eyed_fics, weepingnaiad



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Community: startrekbigbang, F/M, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-04
Updated: 2010-11-04
Packaged: 2017-10-13 01:28:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 79,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/131306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abigail89/pseuds/abigail89, https://archiveofourown.org/users/starry_eyed_fics/pseuds/starry_eyed_fics, https://archiveofourown.org/users/weepingnaiad/pseuds/weepingnaiad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Leonard McCoy is the curator of a small, prestigious archaeological museum in San Francisco and enjoys the admiration of his colleagues worldwide for his contributions to archaeology.  But his professional and personal lives are turned upside down with the arrival of a brash and dashingly handsome young, up and coming archaeologist named Jim Kirk.  After a rugged start they pull together to lead an expedition to Sumatra, the place of McCoy's greatest accomplishment and his most tragic loss.  When the expedition and his friends are threatened by natural disaster and betrayed by one of their own to a band of treasure robbers, Dr. McCoy must reach deep inside himself to find the courage to face his fears.  But with Jim Kirk and his intrepid colleagues by his side, he finds he can overcome anything.</p><div class="center">
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	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2010 round of Star Trek Big Bang on LJ
> 
> Warnings: present-day AU, deaths of minor original characters, violence and guns, implied het
> 
> Beta:The fabulous, and faster than a speeding bullet, aome
> 
> Disclaimer:The characters and world belong to the Master himself, Roddenberry, and to Paramount Pictures Corporation/CBS Studios. We are only borrowing them so they can come out and frolic a bit, not intending any copyright infringement of any sort. We do own our original characters, but they are available for parties! Any passing references to the "Indiana Jones" movie dynasty are purely for your entertainment.
> 
> The authors' notes follow the story as they're a little long.

San Francisco. The crown jewel of the Northern California arts and cultural scene; home to some of the finest institutions of higher education, the most prestigious musical and cultural organizations, and the world's leading art and scientific collections. Sometimes, Leonard Horatio McCoy had to pinch himself to prove that he was really here.

 _Here_ was the Pike Museum of the Pacific Rim, the best private collection of Oceania artifacts in the archaeological world. _The_ place to be to study the early peoples and cultures of Indonesia, Micronesia and Polynesia. Started by the son of a wealthy shipping magnate, the Pike Museum enjoyed not only the prestige of the academic community, but also the cooperation, albeit cautious, of the governments of the less wealthy nations of the region for Christopher Pike's interest in and willingness to assist in the preservation of their cultural history. Most of the collections were outright gifts and purchases acquired through proper channels. But for artifacts that fell into unknown provenance, Pike had wisely built into the agreements forged with cultural officials of each nation the proviso that their antiquities could be repatriated. Pike's skills as a diplomat, a serious student of history and archaeology, and his deep love for the region were some of the many things that drew McCoy to Christopher Pike and his museum.

And he was in charge.

Leonard McCoy, Ph.D., sometimes could not believe his luck in having been hired as Head Curator and Senior Researcher of the Pike Museum. Though he'd always imagined he'd be in the field, making the important discoveries as he had in his student days, he found the regular hours of a curator to be more conducive to family life. Even though that family no longer existed, he was still near his beloved daughter and had the time to spend with her. And that closeness he shared with Joanna kept the restlessness to go back to the field, back to the unpredictable, exciting and, frankly, dangerous work of archaeology, in check. For now.

As he walked through the beautiful museum with its state-of-the-art exhibit cases, expertly crafted presentations, and inspiring atmosphere, McCoy allowed himself to breathe a momentary word of thanks to the universe for his situation. _Lenny, you are a long way from Georgia right now._

He stopped before one of the cases in the Sumatran section, gazing at the carved stone statues and other worked pieces, evidences of a rich, ancient culture in Pongdonan, South Sumatra: _Excavation by Dr. Leonard H. McCoy & University of Georgia team._ He heaved a short sigh. _It was a long time ago, another life. Another person._ He flexed his hand, feeling the slight pull of the scar which ran from the base of his index finger across the span of his palm, a reminder that life in the field can sometimes be unpredictable and dangerous . But then his eyes cut to the small empty space in the center of the ring of exquisitely crafted ancient idols. His personal 'holy grail', the one piece that still eluded him, and was likely to continue to elude him, given the current state of his life. It was just one artifact, just one small artifact that he had been unable to recover. Curling his fingers into a loose fist, he banged it lightly on the protective brass railing outside the case holding his finest discovery. And most devastating loss.

He turned on his heel and walked back to his lab.

~*~

Christopher Pike bit his cheek to keep from sighing aloud from the mind-numbing boredom. He did his duty, attended these events because his patrons were here and wanted to be seen with him, but it took all his considerable tact and skill to keep from bashing his head into the nearest wall after the fourth time his ass was patted by women more than old enough to be his mother. When not being groped, he spent his time deftly avoiding discussions of his personal life. He was _not_ interested in being set up with so-and-so's third cousin!

So, it was with great joy that he spied Dr. Lance Cartwright step into the gallery. He gave Winifred Phillips his most winning smile, nodded to her granddaughter pleasantly before making his excuses and practically darted across the room.

"Dr. Cartwright! It is a pleasure to see you!" Pike smiled and held out his hand. "And where is your lovely wife?"

Lance Cartwright, Dean of the University of California-Berkeley's College of Letters and Sciences and Chair of the Phoebe A. Hearst Museum of Anthropology, clasped Pike's hand warmly, his eyes laughing. He had seen Pike's beeline escape and smiled with understanding and no small measure of humor at his colleague's plight. "Good afternoon, Chris. Vanessa sends her regards. She was busy this afternoon and, you know, Mrs. Phillips is not _that_ bad," he lowered his voice conspiratorially as they moved toward an alcove near the entrance.

"Not that bad? She's determined to marry me off to someone – _anyone_ – in her extended family!"

Cartwright chuckled and shook his head.

"I was glad to see you for more than a rescue operation, though."

"Oh? What's on your mind?"

"You've seen Leonard McCoy's latest paper?" Pike asked, cutting right to the chase.

Cartwright nodded. "I have. Quite impressive, _if_ it can do all that he promises. Would revolutionize the entire field."

"It delivers, Lance. I've seen it, and that's what I've been meaning to talk to you about. It's proven itself in the lab, time and time again; its accuracy and speed are astounding, but it needs field testing." Pike's voice was ardent, his eyes shining, as he discussed McCoy's research.

Cartwright cocked his head thoughtfully. "You have something in mind?" he urged, having ideas of his own, but waiting to hear Pike out.

"I think we should collaborate. With Cal and the Hearst Museum on board, we'd have an easier time of convincing donors, and all Len – McCoy – needs is to get out in the field. You know his early work. He deserves this break. And we've identified a place in Indonesia, something totally new and unknown to the archaeological department; it's not even in Spock's database."

"You really believe in him, and think this new site will deliver?" Cartwright observed.

"AbsoluteIy. Len's got great instincts, and his knowledge is unparalleled. Wouldn't have hired him if I didn't think he was the best and the brightest," Pike affirmed. "What do you think about working together?"

Cartwright stroked his chin, his mouth pursed. Pike could see the cogs working.

"It's a possibility. I do have an _enfant terrible_ that I'm ready to get out of my hair…"

Pike laughed. "Kirk?"

"Of course _Kirk._ He has no shame and thinks the rules apply to everyone but him." He leaned close and dropped his voice. "Seriously, rumors are that he's bedding a student… or two… and it'd be good if he was your problem for a while, or even better, off the continent altogether."

Pike coughed to cover up the laughter that threatened to burst forth. From what his sources at Berkeley had told him, it wasn't _just_ a student that Kirk was bedding, but Cartwright's beautiful wife as well. Of course, the dean would be eager to get rid of his far too attractive and promiscuous professor. He stuck out his hand. "So we have a deal?"

Cartwright shook his hand and grinned. "You convince your board; I'll convince mine."

~~*~~

"Doctor McCoy!"

Leonard started, and turned, then growled at Christine Chapel, "Dammit, Chapel! Warn a guy, will you? You almost gave poor Pavel a heart attack!"

Pavel Chekov looked up from the computer console on which he was recording Doctor McCoy's readings, and shook his head, grinning, but wisely did not say anything. He might still be relatively new at the Pike Museum, but he had learned quickly enough not to get between the collections manager and the head curator.

"It's not Pavel I'm worried about. He's young and doesn't drink his meals." Chapel crossed her arms over her chest and tapped her foot. "What are you still doing here? Aren't you having dinner at Pike's?" She glanced up at the clock. "You're going to be late."

McCoy grumbled, but pushed his rolling stool away from the electron scanning microscope console. "Why couldn't we have just done this month's meeting here? Like always?"

Chapel muttered, "Because Pike doesn't want you near breakable valuables."

"What?" McCoy stood up. "What the hell is going on, Christine? Spill."

"Uh-uh. I'm not ruining Pike's surprise." She _tsked_ at his clothes. "And you can't go like that!"

McCoy looked down at his clothes. He was wearing faded Carhartt khakis, a worn black t-shirt, beat-up hiking boots, and two days worth of stubble. "It's just Pike. When he's not schmoozing, he practically lives back here. He knows what I look like."

"Dammit, Leonard! He owns the museum! You could at least show the man a little respect!"

"I do respect him. I just don't see how-"

Chapel threw her hands up in frustration. "Stop! Just…do.not.move!" She moved away and strode into his office.

McCoy did as ordered, but was mystified as to why she was going into _his_ office. No matter. He trusted her above all others; they were used to living out of each other's pockets, especially with regard to their love lives, or lack thereof. He used Chapel's disappearance as an opportunity to finish giving Chekov some instructions on what to do next, so he was standing there smugly, his arms crossed; one eyebrow arched as Chapel walked back into the room.

She tossed him a maroon oxford. "There. At least change shirts. Or, no. Wait. Just put it on over the tee. Tuck them both in and leave a couple of buttons open."

McCoy was following Chapel's orders as she gave them. She stepped up to him and ran her fingers through his hair. "There. You should have shaved, but you'll have to do. Now go!" She spun him around and gave him a shove between the shoulder blades, laughing.

McCoy muttered about 'insubordinate' and 'women too full of themselves' but hurried up the stairs, stopping on the landing when Scotty's 'Wait!' finally registered. He turned and waited until the Chief Engineer caught up.

"Hey, Doc! I got that case for the Balinese mask fixed. You want me to return it to the floor or not?"

"Good work, Mr. Scott!" McCoy clapped Scotty on the shoulder. "Go ahead and get it back on the floor; things are crowded enough in the back and the display needs that mask."

"Right. I'll get it done before I leave! Night, 'Doc!"

"Goodnight, Scotty! See ya' Monday," he called out as he reached the top of the stairs and stepped out into the warm, summer night.

~~*~~

Driving up the long, winding road to Christopher Pike's home gave McCoy time to reflect on things. The new artifact dating technique was showing great promise. _Still need to fine-tune the 'scope to pick up on fragments better, but that's Pavel's bailiwick. Good thing we were able to snatch him up before he went elsewhere for his internship. Little bastard really knows his shit_ , Leonard mused, his mind on autopilot. Driving did that to him. Years of travel from the university to remote locations for digs had conditioned him to let his mind mull over the minutiae of life.

It also had the unintended result of his reflecting on the disaster that was his personal life. _Fuck! Did I make the child support transfer this month?_ He thought hard about what day it was. It was the 5th--no, it's the 7th. He pulled out his smartphone and pushed the menu button. _It is the seventh! God, where did those two days go?_ He made a mental note to look at his account when he returned home. Though, sometimes, returning home after meeting with Chris took a few days... Still, it meant that he remained in his shrew of an ex's good graces, and she in turn would be more magnanimous about allowing him to visit his daughter. He smiled at the thought of his lively child. _'God, eleven already! And sharp as a tack.'_ Joanna often accompanied him to the museum; her small hands made her especially valuable for working the tiny brushes on small artifacts. Her mother wasn't terribly pleased when he took her along on his work ("The dust and dirt, Leonard. It's not good for her sinuses.") but she loved it, and it was a bonding experience for daughter and father.

Unsettled by the remembrance of his last conversation with his ex, Leonard shifted in the seat of his beloved, beat-up, vintage pick-up truck. The sunset bathed the city below in an ethereal light. He slowed the truck, taking in the gathering gloaming, and felt his body relax. _'For all that I bitch about living in a city, San Francisco really is beautiful . . .'_

Maria answered the door and gave him a wide smile. "You're late," she greeted, before striding past Leonard out the door. " _Jefe_ is on the patio. Tell him dinner's in the warming oven. There's a pitcher of margaritas in the fridge. Carry those out to him, would you?" she called out as she got into her small car.

"Why the hurry? Got a hot date?" Leonard chuckled.

"As a matter of fact I do, Dr. Smartypants. So just shush, you. And stay out of the bourbon. For tonight's dinner only tequila allowed."

"Got it. Now be off with you!" Leonard lingered at the door as Maria clambered into her old car. When it fired up, he gave her a thumbs up.

Maria rolled the window down as she drove past. "If you're still here Monday morning, I'll make you huevos rancheros for breakfast, _mi híjo_."

Trying not to blush, Leonard waved her on with a shy smile. He and Chris had gotten predictable and wasn't _that_ completely surprising, something that had started as just scratching an itch had gotten far too convenient and comfortable. Leonard waited a bit longer as he watched the car disappear behind the first bend, then he turned and walked into the mansion, closing and locking the door behind him. A stiff bourbon sounded better than margaritas, but Leonard wasn't brave enough to buck Maria. Hell, Chris wasn't even brave enough to do that and he paid the woman.

Smiling, he walked out to the patio carrying the tray with guacamole, fresh salsa, chips, and the pitcher. As usual Maria had gone out of her way for them, leaving complete meals with detailed instructions on their preparation. Leonard shook his head. Must be nice to be so pampered. He was lucky to eat frozen microwave meals. He was grateful for Maria, loved her, actually, for providing him with authentic cooking like he had grown accustomed to on the sites in Central America in his early college days.

When he looked up, he stopped for a moment and drank in the sights: the entire bay glittered below and Chris was sitting in a chair, completely oblivious to the view, his bare feet tapping as he strummed and played something Leonard recognized... Clapton, he swore it was... 'Same Old Blues'. Leonard swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. Pike was a handsome man who wore suits well and always looked classy; but here, wearing faded jeans and an old black t-shirt, his hair a bit wild, eyes closed as he concentrated on his playing, he was nothing short of jaw- dropping gorgeous and sexy beyond all description.

Not wanting to disturb him just yet, Leonard quietly set the tray down and stood there, waiting and watching, enjoying the view and the music. The last strains drifted away and Chris opened his eyes, smiling softly when he saw Leonard. "Len! 'Bout time you got here!"

Leonard smiled and unfolded his arms. "Don't start! Maria already got all over me. I was working late... for _you_ , remember?" He stirred the pitcher and poured the drink into two salted glasses. "Here. Maria insisted."

Chris took the offered glass after setting his guitar aside. "Thanks."

He stood and moved gracefully to Leonard's side. After a quick swallow, he set his drink down on the teakwood table, his eyes meeting Leonard's.

McCoy took a deep breath. Chris's cologne and the night blooming jasmine twining along the side of the patio filled his nostrils. He tasted the sweet-tart drink, savored the bite of the lime, the citrus of the Gran Marnier, and the lingering aroma of the tequila. He was not much of a tequila drinker, having done stupid things on spring break in college, all from too much of the stuff, but he wouldn't dare argue with Maria or his host. The luxuries afforded him on these rare weekends were not gifts to be denied.

He almost protested when Chris took his glass and set it beside his own, but his complaint was quickly silenced as Chris's mouth settled on his. He tasted of margarita, and of Chris, a familiar flavor--comfortable, casual, but still oh-so arousing. His hands moved with their own mind, one to Chris's strong bicep, the other behind his neck, holding him, drawing him closer. He was pulled tight, encircled in strong arms, pressed fully against Chris; the promise of the night, and the weekend to follow, hot on the tongue currently devouring him, washed over him.

"Mmm. Hello to you, too."

"Been looking forward to this all day," Chris murmured into his skin.

And if he were honest with himself, Leonard had been looking forward to their meeting, but not as keenly as Chris. He had been engrossed in his work. Chekov might be young, but he was a genius and had some great ideas that had panned out and really moved their research forward. And now he wanted to talk about work, wanted to tell Chris what they'd found, but that wasn't part of these weekends, at least not for Friday night. It was an agreement they had. No shop talk for at least the first night. So, Leonard drowned out the excited voice in his head, pressed their foreheads together, and chuckled. "You're just happy to see me because you want to get fucked through the mattress, and all those society dames don't have the right equipment."

Chris slid one hand down and gave Leonard's ass a firm squeeze. "Damn right. So what's your excuse? Because either you're glad to see me, or you brought some scroll from the collection with you."

Leonard gave him a slow, easy, wolfish grin. "Not a scroll, no." He leaned in to kiss Chris again, a slow, tongue-rolling kiss that had them both shivering when they finally broke apart. "A rod, steel, covered in soft velvet." Leonard pressed his hips into Chris's, eliciting a moan and fingers tightening in his hair. "All for you."

Chris's eyes narrowed to just slits as he rubbed his nose along the ridge of Leonard's cheek, the sides of his nose. Leonard breathed him in; damn, but he had missed this, missed the touch of another who found him desirable. Christine gave the best shoulder rubs and comforting hugs, but Chris Pike made him feel sexy, and Leonard McCoy did not do sexy -- not easily, anyway. He wondered why he didn't take advantage of Chris's affections more often, when Chris tugged on his hair, tumbling him back to his present company.

"Where'd you go?" Chris breathed in his ear, then traced the shell with his tongue. Leonard tightened his arms around him.

"Hmm, nowhere in particular. The land of good feelings called Chris."

Chris chuckled low and sweet, his chest vibrating. "That's pretty sappy, even for you, Len."

That snapped Leonard out of the warm bubble he'd been floating in. "Yeah, it is, isn't it?" he said sheepishly. He dropped his arms.

"Hey, hey." Chris reached for Leonard's wrist and brought it back to rest on his hip. "Not a criticism at all. Just that... you seem to be...I don't know....more willing, eager, this evening." Chris kissed him again.

Leonard sighed happily, content. "I've missed this, missed you, is all. Haven't seen you for a while."

Chris smiled broadly. "Missed me, huh? That's a first. Usually you're the first one out of a board meeting."

"Well yeah, because it's a _board_ meeting. Not like I can kiss you or do this" -- he rubbed his erection against Chris's leg again -- "when you're giving your fundraising report."

"That would be distracting, yes," Chris said.

Leonard grinned. "Can you imagine Winifred Phillips's reaction, though?"

Chris laughed. "She'd drop dead of a heart attack, on the spot. And Doctor Pradhu would wet himself." He tightened his arms around Leonard, once more pulling them together before separating with a quick kiss to Leonard's nose. "Come on. If we don't eat all this, Maria will have my hide and accuse me of chaining you up in the bedroom for the whole weekend. She seems to think I have some say over you."

Leonard picked up his drink and shook his head. "She just assumes that I'm human and have fallen prey to the Pike charm... like every other red-blooded human being." He took another long swallow and then pulled out his chair. He had fallen for Chris's charm and who wouldn't? The guy was smart, good looking, sexy and compassionate, not to mention passionate about the things he believed in, and rich as sin. Leonard just couldn't figure out what the hell Chris saw in _him_.

Chris snorted and sat down. "If only the board consisted of red-blooded humans, we'd be golden. As it is, this economy's trashing the endowment and everyone's holding the purse strings tighter than a gnat's ass stretched over a rain barrel. We have extra fund-raising events planned; yes, you have to go, and no, I'm not breaking the 'no shop talk' rule. I haven't once asked you about the work. This is all gossip."

Leonard rolled his eyes, but didn't argue. Throughout dinner, Chris took care to keep their glasses full, and Leonard noticed that his glass was filled far more often than Chris's. Something was up, but in all honesty, Leonard didn't care. It felt good and right to be here, Maria's famous casserole decimated, a pitcher of margaritas downed, and Chris leaning back, stretching out with cat-like grace before he placed his bare feet in Leonard's lap.

They both sighed and looked out at the bay, San Francisco spread beneath them, jewels next to the dark ocean, and then Chris's feet were in his lap, causing him to feel something else entirely. "What is it with you and shoes? You think you're a hobbit?"

Chris ducked his head, smiling to himself. Leonard's accent always thickened when he was tired or had too much to drink. Now was a combination of that and sharp arousal. The two of them might not do this often enough, but the routine was still there and it was hard to wait, hard to keep from reaching out and grabbing Chris and taking what they both wanted. His voice didn't help Leonard's restraint.

Chris slowly tilted his head. "C'mon. I think we've done the polite thing long enough." He stood and tugged Leonard up, raking his hands through already tousled hair, enjoying how the flames from the tiki torches sparkled in the depths of his eyes, bringing out the golden flecks.

Leonard was surprised by Chris's sudden moves and he quickly found himself pulled close, fingernails raking his scalp and he moaned. Damn the sexy bastard! Chris knew every little thing that got to him and was using each one of them to his advantage. He gasped as a foot slid up his calf and then his mouth was seized and he finally reacted, bringing his hands up and sliding them under Chris's shirt. He was met with soft skin covering hard muscle.

Chris moaned. Leonard skated his hands along the warm flesh, loved the feel of Chris, his body and mouth pressing close. He still marveled that this man wanted him, but quickly shut down that line of thinking. He was here to enjoy and he was going to. He dipped his head, his mouth sliding leisurely down Chris's cheek to his neck where he mouthed and nipped as his hands roamed higher.

"What do you want, Len?" Chris asked. "Or rather, _how_ do you want it?"

Leonard's breath stuttered and he had to stop moving. He licked his lips and looked up, his eyes blown wide. "Not here," he barely rasped out.

"Come on then." Chris pulled at his hands, and took one. He started to lead him inside the house.

Chris's bedroom was on the second floor, a large suite of connecting rooms, with a balcony that overlooked the city; it was one of Leonard's favorite places, beside Chris's bed, of course. He followed Chris eagerly, enjoyed the view of Chris's ass in his jeans, wanted him out of those jeans.

He stumbled mid-way up the stairs. "Are you all right?" Chris asked, amusement dancing in his eyes.

"Yeah, just...where's the fire, Chris?"

"It's in my pants. Haven't seen you in a while."

Leonard chuckled, shaking his head. "I can't believe you said that!" He stopped on the landing, trying to keep from smiling.

"It's true, though. I'm...God, Len. I've missed being with you. Missed feeling your hands on me." Chris paused at the doorway to his bedroom, and pulled him in for a bruising kiss.

Leonard opened to him immediately, relishing the feel of Chris's eager tongue in his mouth and his hands kneading his ass. He worked his hands up under the soft t-shirt, skimming his fingers through his wiry chest hair. He loved Chris's body, how he felt under his hands. "Want to see you. You're not the only one who's missed this."

Chris tugged at Leonard's shirt, pulling the tail out of the waist of his jeans, and reached for the bottom button, slipping it open. "Want you all night, all weekend, Len."

Leonard blinked and tried to catch his breath. "Not going anywhere... 'cept maybe that nice, big bed you got..." He wriggled and let Chris open his shirt as he backed toward the bed. Chris and his damn low, sexy voice had him already so hard he barely knew his own name.

Chris reached for his belt. "Then let's get into that bed." He worked the buckle loose and pulled the leather strap slowly through the loops. His hand brushed over the prominent bulge. "Mmm..." he hummed, and licked his lips. He opened the buttons of his fly, one by one, and then slipped his hands around his waist and pushed the jeans down to Leonard's thighs. One hand found its way back to his front and pressed all the length of his hard cock, while the other cupped the swell of one cheek.

Leonard tried to help, but he was uncoordinated, pressing forward even as he almost tripped backwards, and then he was free of his jeans and he cried out, "Fuck, Chris!" as his body rocked between Chris's hands.

He couldn't take it. He was panting, hungry and desperate. He nudged Chris's chin up, sealed their lips together and pushed his cock harder against Chris's hand as he moaned. His head was spinning before he ripped his mouth away, gasping. "Fuck me. Now, dammit!"

Chris scrambled to ditch his jeans as fast as he could. He pushed impatiently at his briefs and his cock sprang free. "God, Len, when you beg me for it like that...god." He crawled onto the bed and covered Leonard's body with his; a groan escaped at contact with warm skin and soft hair. Chris captured his lips in a frantic, heated kiss as Leonard's hands roamed everywhere. He broke the kiss, panting. "Gotta have you now." He rolled over and opened the drawer of the bedside table, finding a tube of lube and a condom. "Gonna need a lot of those," he said with a smirk.

Leonard scrabbled for purchase against Chris's skin. "Fuck, yeah!" he agreed, eagerly scooting up the bed and spreading his legs.

Chris smiled at Leonard's eagerness. "Just look at you, spread open and willing for me. Fuck, Len. You couldn't be any sexier than you are right now." He flipped open the lid of the lube and coated his fingers with it. "Mmm...gonna touch you now. Make you feel so good."

Leonard huffed out a breath. "Only because you melt my brain. You and that fuckin' sexy guitar playing." His blood was roaring in his veins and he marveled that he could string two words together. His whole body tightened in anticipation. "Just hurry, dammit! I don't need your teasing right now."

Chris's amusement died when he saw the fire in Leonard's eyes. His finger circled the entrance, spreading the lube around and slid one finger in, moving it in and out; he added a second finger. "Fuck, that's..." Chris muttered. He added a third finger and Leonard's breath hitched.

"Enough!" Leonard half-growled, half moaned. "I won't break!"

"I know you won't, but I don't want to hurt you. Now, patience, man. Let me do this right." Chris stilled his hand, adding more lube. He started the slow fucking again, while Leonard squirmed. At his growl, Chris pulled out slowly. "You are...fuck." He tore open the condom package with his teeth and rolled it onto his dick; Leonard had to breathe slowly to control his reaction, he was so aroused and ready.

He grabbed at the lube, squeezed a dollop onto his palm and slicked Chris's cock. He bit his lip to keep from moaning as he thought of that hard flesh spearing him. "Do it." He released Chris and grabbed his knees, spreading himself wide.

Chris placed his hands on either side of Leonard's head and lowered his head for a kiss. He controlled it, slowly, rhythmically rolling his tongue around Leonard's. Leonard rolled his head to and fro, but Chris moved with him. Leonard felt a little frustrated, and a lot aroused, but he knew Chris was determined to make him wait, make him _want_ it bad.

"Ass!" Leonard huffed quietly, his body tensing as Chris chased his mouth. He bit down when he finally snared Chris's lower lip. Panting, he let go of his knees and reached up to tug Chris down. He arched upward, aligning his cock, trying for more, _anything._

Chris smiled evilly. "What did I say, Leonard? Patience."

"God damn cruel bastard! What does a guy have to do get fucked around here?"

With that, Chris looked down, lined his cock up with Leonard's entrance and pushed in. "That what you wanted?"

"F-f-fuuuck," Leonard stuttered; his body tightened and arched up as his eyes slammed shut. Chris stretched him wide, his blood thrummed, and he shuddered, his legs spreading and his arms reaching to grab hold.

"This what you want, what you need?" Chris asked. Leonard was tight and hot around his dick. He started pumping in long, slow thrusts, in slowly, then pressing his hips upward as his pubis touched Leonard's balls; he pulled out quickly, and thrust in again, slowly and pushing against his balls.

Leonard couldn't make his mouth form words, a soft keening sound was the best he could do as Chris drove him wild with his targeted, hard thrusts. He let go of Chris and lifted his hands to the headboard and bore down, meeting each of Chris's thrusts as he wrapped his legs around Chris's waist.

Encouraged, Chris pushed and pulled faster. He changed his angle, aiming upwards to slide across Leonard's prostate. As he did, Leonard let out a louder moan and then let loose with a stream of expletives. "Fuck, yeah," Chris muttered, then changed to a stuttering rhythm that had him pounding into Leonard's prostate constantly.

Leonard was already so close, and damn him, but Chris knew exactly how to play his body. He was so close, his whole body trembling as he clenched his muscles, bearing down on Chris's cock as he swore. Slowly he steadied himself and reached down, ready to stroke himself off. It wouldn't take much now.

Chris batted away his hand. "Mine," he said, "all mine." Leonard's cock was wet with pre-come; instead of taking it in his hand, Chris lowered his body, trapping it between them. That allowed him to kiss Leonard, a kiss that nearly stole his breath away.

If Leonard had been more coherent, less needy, he might have been embarrassed by his whine that was quickly swallowed by Chris's heated kiss. He arched up, his whole body coiling tightly. "Please? Fuck, Chris! I need..."

"Giving you what you need, Leonard," Chris wheezed. He pressed his abdomen to Leonard's harder, his skin slick with pre-come and sweat.

"Wha- what... I need?" He threw his head back and flung his arms around Chris, his whole body trembled and then the coil sprung, his orgasm overtaking him and he arched up off the bed, a long, low moan ripped from his throat as the world whited out.

As Leonard came down from his high, he heard Chris hiss, "Len," low and desperate. Chris tensed and gasped, and stuttered as Leonard watched his face curl into the moue of release. Leonard grasped the man's biceps and squeezed his knees to Chris's waist, grounding him in warmth and skin that would be at once freeing and comforting. When his orgasm ended, Chris lowered himself to lie to the side. Chris was considerate like that, a generous lover, an excellent lover.

Leonard melted into the bed, his eyes were too heavy and he gave in, let them stay closed. He felt Chris still above him, heard his name and warmth rushed through his. He tried to shift, to turn into Chris, but he couldn't move. "Damn overachiever. I think you fucked my brains out my ears." He blinked sleepily at Chris and gave him a soft, crooked grin.

Chris ran his fingers through Leonard's sweaty hair. "Nope. No brain matter on the bed." He huffed a short laugh. "But I will admit to being an overachiever."

"C'mere," Leonard murmured as he fruitlessly tugged at Chris, his arms too boneless to make much headway, but Chris humored him and shifted closer, their breaths mingling as they kissed tenderly. "We need to do this more often."

"How about again in a few hours? That more often for you?" Chris teased. Leonard felt Chris's hand still as he grew quiet. He wanted nothing more than to have Chris claim him again, but the reality was that he wanted to fall asleep that very moment. Through heavy eyelids he watched as Chris shifted, stripped the condom off and tossed it to the side, hopefully into a trash can; then he settled back beside him. After several minutes, he felt Chris shift his leg and that encouraged Leonard to maneuver to roll over closer to him. He felt Chris stretch again, probably to find a comfortable position; when Chris finally stilled, Leonard threw his arm about his chest in utter contentment.

"Mmm..." Leonard murmured his agreement, Chris's warmth making him drowsy. "You have a comfy bed." His eyes fought to stay open.

He felt Chris's answering chuckle rumble through his body. "Then, sleep, Leonard." He yawned hugely. Then he felt Chris sit up and pull the sheet and blanket up around them, making sure they were well covered. Leonard hummed as the blanket settled over him, and rolled back slightly to make room for Chris to lay beside him again. He then wriggled into Chris's warmth and arms again. And with that, they both fell asleep.

~~*~~

He awoke to the first bright light of morning. Often, San Francisco mornings started off with thick, gray fog, so it was a surprise to a native such as Christopher Pike to arise to the sun. He slid from the bed, careful not to disturb the still-slumbering Leonard. The temperature was chilly, but he opened the doors to the balcony anyway, stepping out to survey the peaceful city.

He shivered in the cool breeze. Perhaps walking around naked wasn't the wisest choice. He placed his hands on the stone ledge and leaned into them, thinking about what was coming. It wouldn't be easy telling Leonard about the plans he was making for the museum. He had absolutely no doubt that Leonard McCoy was the best in the field and that the museum was damn lucky to have him. But he needed to move the museum forward, needed to push Leonard just a bit off center, give him a nudge to get that big, sexy brain of his something more to think on. _And if this doesn't do it, nothing will_ , he thought.

His shivering turned violent, so he returned to the bedroom, shutting the doors behind him. Leonard hadn't moved a centimeter from his tidy sprawl, a soft snore sounding in the silent room. Chris pulled on a robe and headed to the bathroom; returning, he considered going downstairs to start a pot of coffee and maybe make some biscuits. But he was still cold and then he yawned. "Fuck it," he muttered. He tossed the robe carelessly onto the foot of the bed and climbed back in. He pressed his chilled flesh to Leonard, who squirmed and made an adorable hum, but never opened his eyes. Soon, the warmth of the bed and the deep even breathing of his partner lulled Chris back to sleep. Anything he needed to say could wait.

Chris awoke for a second time, stretched, and leaned up on his elbow to gaze at his bed partner. He stroked his hand down Leonard's chest, lightly dragged fingernails along loose, sprawled limbs. The other man's eyes were closed, and Chris knew without seeing them that they were that soft dark green of evergreens in spring. Without his corrective lenses, Leonard's blurry gaze never settled for long, making his usual scowl almost wistful. Sated and relaxed, Leonard's face and his furrowed brow were smooth, revealing to Chris that his bedmate was content, or as content as he ever was. Taking a deep breath, knowing he'd delayed long enough, Chris licked his lips and brushed a soft kiss to Leonard's temple.

He whispered, "Leonard, just wanted to let you know something... 'bout a new opportunity for the museum."

Leonard's eyes blinked open, then fluttered a few times and stubbornly closed once again. "You're breakin' the rules. No shop talk, 'member?"

Chris smiled at the heavy accent and slurred words, hating that he was likely going to wake Leonard up fully with his news. "It's Saturday... and I think you'll be interested in this."

Leonard huffed and turned into Chris's warmth, his breath brushing against the older man's lightly furred chest. "Unless it's the find of the century... with my name on it, don't care... tell me later... maybe tomorrow... or Monday."

Chris ran a cool hand over Leonard's back, soaking up the other man's warmth and then smiled sadly, giving up. He had already put it off too long. Leonard had work to do and no matter what happened, there really was no choice for any of them. The board had signed on and Kirk was chomping at the bit. "You're getting a shot to go back to Sumatra. Field work to put your equipment to the test."

Leonard's eyes flew open. "Field work? How? Thought you said that money's tight. How's the museum going to fund this?"

Chris licked his lips and pressed their foreheads together. "The uni-- Berkeley's Hearst Museum's got a hotshot field archaeologist who's made some interesting finds...."

Leonard's interest was piqued. He frowned at Pike. "The Hearst doesn't have a Pacific Rim collection."

"They're working on it. They snagged this guy from UCLA. Did some good work on some of the smaller islands off the western Sumatra coast during his grad days there under Boyce, and been getting some attention."

Leonard pulled away and cocked his head at Chris. "Go on. Who is the hotshot and when do we start? I take it this takes priority over everything else?"

Chris didn't answer right away. He had hoped that Leonard would concentrate on the field work opportunity and not on the researcher. "Well. . ."

Leonard blinked, waiting, but his eyes slowly widened, darkening. "Wait a second! You're _not_ seriously expecting me to work with that guy? What…who…that Kirk guy?"

Chris breathed slowly, but he could only confirm Leonard's suspicion with a tiny nod.

"No! Not only no, but hell no! What the fuck does that strutting, self-important peacock _really_ know about the region?" Leonard sat up, distancing himself from Chris. "He's just a pretty face with nothing to back it up! Probably slept his way through his degree and paid Dr. Spock to do his leg work! If you hire him, I'll quit." His face was mutinous, his arms crossed over his chest. Chris could tell he was furious, but with his bed-head hair and sleep-creased face, it was hard to take his ire too seriously, or so Chris hoped.

Chris sat up quickly, wrapping his arms around Leonard, pulling him close. "You're not going anywhere. We're going to talk about this. Like adults. _Reasonable_ adults." Chris fought with Leonard, tugged his arms, finally cheated by biting at that spot behind his ear that made him weak. He whispered, "Len, you need this. It's a great opportunity for you to return to the field and get the leg work in that you need. Besides, now that the board's involved, you don't have a choice. It won't be so bad. You'll see." He rolled them both over so they were horizontal in the bed again.

"Fuck you!" he growled, even though Chris could feel his body responded to the light bite and teasing suction. Chris's re-awakened arousal pushed against Leonard's butt, sending a shiver through his partner. "You fight dirty."

Chris still held on, but stroked one hand soothingly down Leonard's arm. "I'll admit it was half my idea. I didn't do it to piss you off, and I stand by my decision -- it's good for business, but more importantly, it's good for you." He tugged Leonard back, rolling his back flat onto the bed, but the other man wouldn't meet his eyes. Chris sighed and straddled him. He wasn't going to let him run away from reality. "C'mon, Len. You've been dying to be back in the field and your artifact dating equipment needs testing. It's worked out in the lab, but this is your opportunity to prove it to the world."

"Goddammit, Chris! Get off me!" Leonard shoved at Chris, but the older man did not budge. He just looked down at Leonard with far too much understanding in his eyes.

Leonard turned to the side, his chest aching, refusing to look up at Chris. He really didn't want to think about this. He didn't need a damn assistant, and he sure as hell didn't need a no-talent ass like James T. Kirk.

Chris reached down, cupped Leonard's cheek, stroked his thumb over the soft stubble and sighed, his own shoulders drooping. He stretched out beside Leonard, wrapping his arms around him and pulling his back to his chest. "I'm sorry, Len. I am. The board's given me... you... any of us, no choice. With the endowment suffering, they need a draw. The university needs our facilities... your skill and knowledge. From the board's side, it's a match made in heaven."

"Yeah, with Cal's rising star's name on every goddamned thing. I'll be lucky to be more than a foot note." Leonard's tone was bitter, the taste of past triumphs turned to the ash of lost opportunities.

"Can you at least give this Kirk a chance? He might not be the asshole you believe him to be and your name will be on _everything_. I won't let you be left out," Chris vowed.

"Why the fuck should I?"

"Because it's orders from on high. And you still have child support payments to make. It pays the bills, Len," Chris replied softly, genuinely concerned.

"Like you know what that's like, Mr. Trust Fund," Leonard grumbled, pissed and unhappy, but Chris was right and there was not a damn thing he could do about it. He sure as hell couldn't afford to walk away from the job. "I'm not going to be nice to the kid and I'm not explaining a damn thing. If he's not smart enough to keep up, then he doesn't deserve to be there."

It was the best concession Chris could get and at least Leonard hadn't said he was going to murder the guy in his sleep. "Deal." He sealed their lips together, insistent and hungry, wanting to make Leonard forget all about Kirk. At least, for the moment.

~~*~~

Jim strode into the lab and clapped his colleague on the shoulder. "Seriously, man, what the hell was so urgent that I had three voicemails and four texts? You discover Atlantis or something?"

Hikaru Sulu turned and threw Jim's hand off his shoulder as he leveled a hard look at him. "Where the fuck have you been?"

Jim stepped back and raised his hands. "Chill. I was in the collections area in the basement. You know cell phones don't pick up a signal down there."

"The basement? What for?"

Jim sighed and gave Sulu a sideways leering grin. "I was showing Mrs. Cartwright around. She wanted a 'tour'."

Sulu closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "You were fucking the dean's wife in our basement? Literally under Cartwright's nose? Are you insane?" Sulu opened his eyes and shook his head.

"Hey, man, you know me better than that! She wanted a tour... wanted to let her fingers do the walkin' is more accurate." Jim rubbed the back of his neck. "Do you have any idea how hard it is to fend off Mrs. Grabbyhands for an hour _without_ insulting her?"

"Man, I am _sooo_ glad I do not have your life!"

Jim chuckled. "It's not so bad and you know my taste runs more to Winston anyway."

Sulu shook his head. "You _are_ certifiable. Bedding the dean's son while being chased by the dean's wife. I don't get you."

"No one does, my man. No one does." Jim dropped into the chair next to Sulu and grabbed the notepad he had been annotating. Jim scanned the results and frowned. They really needed a better way of dealing with dating artifacts. This was too slow and cumbersome and too prone to errors. Just now, he caught a mistake one of the grad students had made and it affected the dating and proper placement of the pottery shard.

Jim bit his lip and flipped through the pages. He snagged a red pencil and circled possible mistakes all while trying to ignore the hollow feeling in his chest. Even Sulu thought he was a slut. Behind his friend's teasing words was a hint of the truth as he saw it. It wasn't Jim's truth or reality, but a long time ago Jim had learned to use whatever assets he had and he wasn't going to change his ways just because some dean's wife thought he'd be good in the sack. He'd keep her and the rest at arm's length all while making them believe they had more of him than they did.

Tossing the notepad back on the table, he nudged Sulu's arm to pull his gaze from the microscope. "So, really, what was so important?"

"Oh, shit! Cartwright's looking for you! Sorry, man! You better get up to his office... and quick!"

Jim frowned. "Hmmm. Wonder what he wants? Did he say?"

Sulu shook his head. "Nope. Just that it was important and that I was to 'track you down'."

"Good job you did with that!" Jim laughed and stood up. "First drink's on you for waiting so damn long to tell me."

Sulu protested, but Jim ignored him as he hurried out the door and took the stairs two at a time.

~~*~~

"You're shittin' us?" Nyota Uhura said, her eyes growing wide.

Leonard leaned against the counter. "Wish I was."

Christine dropped into the chair beside him. "From what I've heard, Jim Kirk has the goods. Friend of mine--you remember Roger Korby, right? Tall guy with glasses we met at the last Cal State Archaeology Society meeting? Anyway, Roger went to school with Jim at UCLA and said he's good. Did his master's program in one year, Ph.D. in three. Which is practically unheard of at LA. Philip Boyce runs a mean program. Puts his students through the mill and then grinds them up again just for fun. Kirk must've set his pants on fire about something if he signed off on his dissertation that fast."

"Well, I've heard from friends there that Kirk slept his way through many pairs of pants," Nyota sniffed. "Charmed his way out of the grunt work every graduate student has to do. Got to work only with collections and not with undergrads. And he may or may not have slept with a few professors."

"Oh, come on, Nyota!" Christine interjected, throwing up her hands. "That's such a cliché! No one gets their doctorate by sleeping with the professor. Besides, I happen to know Boyce is strictly heterosexual."

"Hey, it's what I've heard. He's--"

"Okay, y'all, that's enough," Leonard said, shifting uncomfortably from one foot to the other. "This isn't a gossip circle. I think Kirk is a lightweight. He hasn't published anything worth reading of late, but I think we need to keep his personal life outta the lab."

"Not if it's having a direct impact on our work, Len," Nyota said. "I don't want to have to constantly watch a colleague for any sexual harassment or--"

"Nothing of the sort will be tolerated, Nyota," Leonard said sternly. "Absolutely not. If Kirk comes on board he'll have to abide by the same employment rules we all do."

"Well, he'd better. Because I won't hesitate to kick his ass if he tries anything funny."

"And I'd expect nothing less from you if he does, darlin'," Leonard said, smiling. "Then we can all get in line and kick it some more."

That seemed to lighten the mood as everyone laughed.

"Leonard, you haf more to tell us, yes?" Pavel asked. "You said you had good news and bad."

"Oh, yeah, thanks, Pavel. Right." He rubbed his hands together. "Okay, so the bad news has been thoroughly worked over. The good news is that we're headed into the field."

His announcement was greeted by several seconds of silence, and then everyone began talking at once: "Where are we going?" "Are we all going to get to go?" "Who's going to run the museum?" "When are we going?" "Did Pike say--"

"People! Cool your jets," Leonard said, laughing. "Anyone who wants to go, can. And we're going to Sumatra."

Christine leapt up and wrapped her arms around Leonard's neck. "Oh, Len! This is what you've been waiting for!" she said.

Leonard was a little surprised by Christine's emotional response, but he had to admit that it felt damn good, and not just because he was being hugged tightly by his lovely co-worker. "I know," he replied quietly. "I couldn't believe it when Chris told me the board had approved the proposal. She released him, but stood close. "So here's the deal: the Hearst is kicking in some money, and now all we have to do is raise the final portion of the cost and we're on our way."

"Ooh, the Hearst," Nyota said. "Wait-- _that's_ where Kirk is right now? The Hearst?"

"Assistant Curator of the Pacific Rim collection," Leonard replied.

"Dear God," Nyota said in disbelief.

"Okay, let's not go there again," Leonard said. "So Chris is going to get the fundraiser organized in the next week or so. Nyota darlin', I think he's going to need a little bit of your classy help. So if you need to shuffle the schedule around with the school visits, do it."

"We're good at the moment. Next month is going to be wicked, though."

"Right. Christine, let's bring some of the Sunda Shelf pieces out, reorganize what we have on exhibit right now, and make it all look shiny and new."

Christine sat down at her desk and started taking notes. "Emphasis on Sumatra?"

"And Bali. We might get there during this trip, just to check on one of the sites, if we can get the funding together."

She hit a few keys and brought up the collections database. "I'll print off the inventory and we can start pulling objects in a few minutes."

"Great, thanks."

Leonard walked into his office and shut the door quietly. His work table was stacked with artifact boxes of all sizes, the beginning of another research project and a paper for the upcoming Pacific Rim Archaeological Society in Auckland. He was planning to take Joanna with him since the meeting fell during one of her school breaks. It was going to be an easy meeting--give one paper, participate in a panel, and then off to explore New Zealand for the rest of the week. But now, with the nascent organization of a major field expedition to his most favorite place on Earth--well, that threw everything into question, didn't it? He sighed, torn between his love of pure research and the hopeful, growing excitement of finally returning to the island that captured his heart and launched his career. But the thought of having to share that with _Jim Kirk_ , of all people, cast a slight pall on the overall excitement and giddiness. "We'll just have to put that aside for now," he mused to himself, as he called up his research notes on the Sunda Shelf pieces he wanted to highlight for the fundraiser. As he poured over the information and looked at the accompanying images of the pieces, he began to smile, despite himself.

 _Maybe it won't be so bad after all._

~~*~~

Leonard took a seat next to Pavel's desk and crossed his arms over his chest. He might be less than thrilled at the upcoming meeting, but he'd promised Chris that he'd behave and he'd be damned if his staff would give Chris any reason to doubt their professionalism. He rolled his eyes at Nyota's suspicious posture and Christine's closed-off face. At least Pavel seemed to be withholding judgment, but then again, Leonard never really knew what was going on behind those wide blue eyes and that innocent face.

"Okay, people. Listen up. Pike is going to be here in a few minutes to introduce Jim Kirk and..." he paused, took a quick look at the e-mail he'd printed out, before continuing, "Hikaru Sulu. And we're going to be on our best behavior." He hated office politics, playing nice; lying is what he always thought of it as, but he knew it was a necessity, especially in his field.

Nyota just rolled her eyes, her stance not giving an inch. "I'm _always_ on my best behavior, Leonard," she countered, her voice coldly sweet.

"Ny. Just..." he ran a hand through his hair, sighing inwardly. He didn't like this anymore than his staff did. "Keep it professional. For Pike and the museum's sake. We wouldn't want Kirk and Sulu to go back to the Hearst saying bad things about us."

"We'll be consummate professionals, Len." Christine glanced over at Nyota and gave her a conspiratorial wink.

And wasn't that _exactly_ what he was afraid of?

Before Leonard could say anything more, or ask after Scotty's whereabouts, the man himself rushed into the lab. He was wiping his hands on a rag, which he tossed onto the nearest work bench. "Sorry, 'm late. Was installing that new-fangled digital track lighting at the entrance." He finally looked around and skidded to a halt, his eyes darting around to the others. "I'm not late?"

"Right on time, Scotty," came Pike's baritone from the doorway. He strode in, his presence filling the room, all eyes turning to him. Leonard straightened, standing from where he'd been leaning against his desk.

"Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to introduce our newest colleagues, Drs. James T. Kirk and Hikaru Sulu." Pike stepped more fully into the room and two men followed. Leonard was suddenly glad that Nyota and Christine had done such thorough research. Leonard had been totally unfamiliar with Sulu, but now knew that the young man was a skilled bush pilot, a trained archaeologist who had cut his teeth at his parents' side at digs throughout Asia and Korea, and Jim Kirk's closest friend. Now if he could only figure out _why_ Sulu stuck by Kirk.

Leonard had been musing about Sulu, his gaze off in the distance, until his attention was pulled back to the room by Jim's voice.

Jim wasted no time, didn't even wait for Pike to make the introductions. He stepped forward and held his hand out to Christine who took it. "You must be Christine Chapel, one of the best collections managers in the industry." He smiled and his blue eyes danced as his hand lingered, holding Christine's just a trifle longer than polite. He lowered his voice just enough for theatrics, but was still clearly heard. "I'd recruit you for the Hearst -- we need a manager of your caliber -- _if_ I wasn't certain Pike'd have my head for even suggesting it."

Christine dropped her hand, the slight flush on her cheeks revealing. She laughed lightly and shook her head. "You could try, Doctor Kirk, but I'm happy here. I have freedom that I'd never have at a public institution."

"Can't blame a guy for trying." He shrugged. "And, please, call me Jim. With all the titles floating around here, anything else'd get confusing fast."

 _Charming bastard_ was all that Leonard could think as he watched Jim work the room.

"Ms. Nyota Uhura." Jim turned to Nyota and took her gracefully offered hand, turning it and kissing it like he was some sort of French diplomat. "I have long looked forward to meeting you. Your programs are truly inspirational, and your linguistic skills, legendary. I've so wanted to work with you on Hindi manuscripts."

Nyota's eyes narrowed, but she kept her lips from curling suspiciously and her voice was mildly pleasant, if formal. "Thank you. It is always gratifying to think that one has made a difference."

Scotty stepped up and offered his hand. "Good to meet you. I'm--"

"Montgomery Scott, wizard of the Pike, guru with environmental systems, a security systems genius, and the things you can do with only a pair of needle nose pliers..." Jim finished, laughing, his left hand gripping Scotty's shoulder familiarly. "You've worked miracles here in this old building and I look forward to learning your secrets."

"Well, not _all_ my secrets, mind," Scotty replied and, surprisingly, he was smiling.

Leonard looked up and met Chris's eyes. He snorted at the rather smug expression Chris wore. At least he was pleased with Jim's performance, even if he had no idea that his staff was currently only humoring the brash young man because Chris was there.

Leonard tore his eyes away from Chris only to find that Jim was staring at him. He was suddenly pinned by the measuring blue gaze before he cocked his head, breaking the moment. He growled internally. He was not the one being judged here!

"And you are obviously Pavel Andreievich Chekov," Jim said, turning to shake Pavel's hand. Jim glanced over his shoulder and Sulu smiled, stepping forward, his hand extended in greeting. "I think you and Sulu will be fast friends. He's the genius with the 'scope on my team." He gently pointed Pavel toward Sulu and stepped back to watch.

Pavel gave Jim and Sulu a genuine smile and eagerly shook hands, the sudden chattering between them quickly dropping into the background as Pavel led Sulu to his desk and the ESEM console at the rear of the lab.

Now it was Leonard's turn to 'play nice' so he straightened, pushing away from the desk as he extended his hand. "I'm--"

"Doctor Leonard McCoy. I know." Jim took his hand and shook it, giving Leonard the brightest smile that he had ever seen. It was as though Jim Kirk was lit from the inside. "'God, McCoy, your early work was stunning," Jim said with admiration as he pumped Leonard's hand. "It's a shame you couldn't follow up, but your dissertation on Indonesia was a great starting point for my own research."

Leonard quickly pulled his hand away, praying that no one saw how Jim's comment stung. He breathed deeply and plastered on as pleasant a face as he could manage even as he died a little inside. Thing is, he _liked_ working for Pike. Liked and respected his colleagues, which was often a rare thing. And Christine was right. If he was still back at Georgia, he'd be constrained on all sides: family and scrambling for grant money to fund his research would be the least of his worries. He'd have to worry about teaching... work with students again, kowtow to administrators, teach a pre-set curriculum, and _publish_ at a designated pace. He might not be in the field, but he was doing good work, important work, and he'd be damned if he'd let some cocky upstart talk down to him.

"So you've been to Indonesia? Lucky for us the robbers didn't get you. Would have been a tragedy." Leonard tried, but failed, to keep the sarcasm out of his voice.

Jim's smile dimmed slightly, but he didn't back off. "Robbers? They didn't give my team any problems." He waved his hand airily. "The tragedy was having to leave and spend the past six months here, trying to sort through the mess. But I vowed I'd be back and finish what I started... find the rest...." He let his voice trail away, and Leonard wondered just what he'd been about to say.

Before he could ask, or call Jim on his flippant attitude toward the robbers--brigands was a better description, Chris pushed away from where he was standing and intervened. "That's about all we have time for right now. I have to take Jim here to meet some members of the board." He smirked at Leonard, well knowing that there'd be no rush to join him. "And if there are no volunteers to accompany us, we'll be off."

Jim gave the room a smile. "It was a pleasure," he said, giving Leonard a sharp glance back over his shoulder as he trailed Chris out of the room.

Leonard waited until the door closed to grumble, "Pleasure, my ass."

~~*~~

Leonard looked up from his monitor at the clock and shook his head. Kirk was late... again. In the four weeks he'd been on staff, Jim Kirk had yet to appear at his desk at the appointed time. He huffed out an exasperated breath. The kid was probably happily chatting with the staff, unconcerned that he was keeping Leonard waiting. He was always on, always schmoozing and never seemed to walk in a straight line anywhere -- he'd always beeline for the nearest hand to shake or ear to charm. _Damn butterfly._

As Leonard turned his focus back to the screen, he rolled his eyes as Kirk's cheerful voice floated into the far corner of the lab. The guy was definitely all show. So far he hadn't seen much from Kirk except a lot of talk. Well, today he'd have to put up or shut up.

"What's shakin', Bones?" Jim greeted as he straddled the chair nearest Leonard. He didn't even bother to turn the chair around.

Leonard clamped his jaw shut and glared at the screen until the hot flare of annoyance faded. "You're late, Kirk. I don't know how things work where you're from, but around here we start bright and early and the work comes first. You can..." He turned to continue his harangue, to point out that they only had two weeks until the fundraiser, but the words died on his lips. Jim Kirk was giving him the most. . . well, the only way to describe it was a gorgeously coy smile.

Leonard wouldn't dare argue the point that Jim Kirk was a beautiful man, with his thick blond hair, full lips, and strong chin. His slim, lithe body bespoke someone who took care of himself. Considering he thought the younger man shallow and more flash than substance, Leonard had no trouble keeping any purely physical attraction at bay. But this morning, things were different. Jim Kirk was different.

Leonard realized that he'd stopped in mid-sentence, that he was staring and he hastily turned away, forced himself to stare at the screen. "Didn't know you wore glasses," he mumbled.

Jim cocked his head as he reached up and touched the horn-rimmed frames. "Oh. Yeah. I ripped my last contact and it'll be a couple of days before they get more in. I'm a few minutes late. What's the big deal? We're just sorting through the collections, trying to find pieces to highlight. It's not like we're doing anything that a grad student couldn't do." Jim took a sip from the large cup of coffee he was holding. "Look, man, I get that it's been awhile since you were in the field, but this--" he waved at the screen--"this is scut work, cataloging. The _real_ work's out there!"

Leonard blinked at Jim, the muscle in his jaw jumping. "And just how the hell do you expect to get _there_? Who's going to pay you if you never publish another damn thing? Who's going to display your finds if you don't have verifiable proof of their age and authenticity?" Leonard took a deep breath and barreled on. "Look, kid. I'm not sure what you've done in the past, or who you've charmed into doing your grunt work, but that ain't gonna fly here. So just get off your high horse and start helping with this. I'm not here for my health and I'm sure not here to do your work."

Leonard stood up and glared at Jim. "I'm going for coffee, so get your ass in gear while I'm gone!"

He grabbed his mug from his desk, and threw open the door; it banged into the wall. At that, Christine looked up from her computer. "Len?" she called after him.

Leonard waved at her, and continued on his way to the break room. _Goddamn it, but there had better be some coffee!_ he thought furiously.

Fortunately for all, there was a half a pot of fresh steaming coffee and several of Nyota's honey rolls still left on the plate. He poured a cup and leaned heavily against the counter. As he sipped he took several controlled, even breaths, trying to quell the storm in his mind.

"Len?"

He looked up and saw concern etched on Christine's lovely face. "I'm fine," he rumbled. "Just another frustrating run-in with our golden boy."

Christine came into the break room and took a seat at the table. She picked up one of the honey rolls and broke it in half. "Come sit," she said.

Leonard, not wanting to appear rude, shambled over and fell into the chair. "I know, I know," he sighed.

"Well, then, what's going on?" She picked off a piece of the roll and chewed slowly. "Len, he's here for the foreseeable future. I'm afraid _you_ are going to be the one who's not going to be here."

Leonard raised an eyebrow at that. Christine plunged ahead. "He's. . . not so bad. He's young, yes, but he also reminds me of a brash young archaeologist who had early, significant successes, and who was dealing with disappointment, both professionally and personally." She stopped, and took his hand. "Talk to him. You two have more in common than meets the eye."

He rolled his eyes. "Christine, I love and respect you, but a heart-to-heart talk over wine and pastries isn't going to happen. First, we're guys. Guys don't do touchy-feely talks. Second, I don't care. Really. He's young, but he's also undisciplined, has no work ethic and hasn't proved to me he's worth the hype."

She patted his hand and stood. "Well, for your sake, you're going to have to try. Pike has given you your marching orders and that includes playing nice with the new kid. So, do it however best you see fit. If it means beer, dogs and a ball game, then do it, because Len, I really don't want to work for anyone but you."

He watched her walk away. What was it that unsettled him so much about Jim Kirk? He knew his training was good--better than good. Boyce was a damn fine archaeologist, noted for his work in Micronesia, and his students had always found respectable positions. Kirk hadn't published much to make any impact on the field--yet. But he _could_ be good, very good, one day. And maybe that was part of what was happening here. Leonard had never thought himself to be a jealous person, and never doubted his abilities. Kirk rattled something, and he was damned if he knew what.

Leonard walked back to his office, coffee in hand. Distracted, he settled into his chair and called up the inventory; it was several minutes before he realized Kirk was nowhere to be seen. "What the--"

He rose up and walked out into the general lab area. "Pavel, you seen Kirk?"

"Um..." Pavel was engrossed with cleaning a crevice on a large, detailed piece with a small brush. "I think I saw him go over there." He pointed with his brush in a vague off-to-the-right direction.

Kirk's new office....Leonard walked over and was ready to bang on the door when he saw through the window that it was empty. He cautiously entered the area, still fairly uncluttered save for several boxes of books on the floor and half the bookcase filled with neatly filed books and notebooks.

He glanced at the computer; the inventory of the collection was up. Then, by happenstance, he looked down at the desk and saw something very familiar: the journal containing his last paper on bone tools used by aboriginal peoples of Indonesia in the ancient age. It was turned to page twenty-five, the description of where the bones had come from and how he had used his new technique for dating them. Underneath that was a copy of the journal with his first paper on bone tools he'd found in Sumatra. What was Kirk up to?

"Hey, Bones, what'cha need?" Jim asked, startling Leonard out of his snooping.

"Uh...oh, um, nothing really. Just wondered where you'd gone off to," he answered, trying to keep the guilty tone out of his voice. "Thought we were gonna start writing text for the exhibit cases."

"We will, I promise." Jim walked into the office and set several stacked artifact boxes on his work table. "I've been...well, I've been looking at something you worked on. I read it a couple of years ago when I was getting ready to do my dissertation, and I wanted to refresh my memory." He moved to the desk and picked up the journal. "Your analysis of worked bone is fantastic. And the fact that you're able to get such accurate readings on the pieces means we can place them more accurately in the timeline. You proved beyond a doubt that the peoples in this phase of cultural development were working tools and a lot earlier than we thought, Bones."

Leonard stared at him. "Why are you calling me that?"

Jim gave him a wide smile. "Because, you are the bone man!"

He waved him off impatiently. "The hell is that? Archaeologists have been doing work on bones forever."

"Yeah, but _you_ , Bones, you're the one who found the missing link, and it's made of bone." Jim flailed just a bit. He pulled on a white glove, picked up one of the boxes, opened it, and pulled out one of the delicate artifacts. "This was the only thing separating the two cultures. We've known for generations they were connected, but nothing seemed to fit. Their environments were different; their religions were different. Even the way they hunted was different. But this--this was the missing link." He held it up to the light, his finger reverently tracing the faint lines carved on it. "This was what brought Sumatran ancient society together, Bones. And you proved it."

Leonard felt his face grow hot. "Well, it wasn't that impressive. All it took was a little deep research and knowing where and when the artifacts came from."

Jim stared at him. "Not...a little...." He stopped and huffed. "Bones, this was damn impressive work. And knowing that it wasn't even the focus of your primary research, that it was just something you noticed while doing your field work, I mean...god, do you know how jeal--I mean..." Again, he paused, and then put the piece of bone back in its protective box. Then, he faced Leonard, his blue eyes passionate. "You and me, we're gonna have a talk one day about this--this thing you have about not _claiming_ due credit, Bones."

He sat in the swivel chair, and pushed back, retrieving the papers from his desk. "This, this work that you claimed was just a 'side interest' of yours, something that you noticed while you were doing your 'real work'?" He leaned over and dropped the papers on the desk again, removing his glasses as his did. "It was _good_ work. And then, nothing. You started doing this dating process thing and then your next four papers were just research-oriented from libraries and other collections."

"Archaeological work doesn't start in the field, Kirk," McCoy said, rolling his eyes. "It starts in the library and in research collections. We build our work on the backs of those before us. And 'X' never marks the spot."

"Yeah, yeah. I saw 'Indiana Jones' too. And 'start' being the operative word here." Kirk stood and then leaned against the table, folding his arms. "Why didn't you go back into the field? What happened?"

Leonard looked down at his hands; he flexed the left one, the one with the scar that split his palm. The scar seemed to be laughing at him, _mocking_ him, just like the bastards who did this to him. And now, Jim Kirk. Anger flashed through him. He didn't owe any explanations to this guy. "Life happened, Kirk. Real life with real consequences."

"What? A wife and kid?" Kirk asked. "So what? People take their families into the field all the time so that they can do the work they're meant--"

"Well, I wasn't _meant_ to do any more, okay? I just wasn't. So drop it." Leonard pushed away from the desk, and strode out the door. He didn't see the look of astonishment on Jim Kirk's face as he left.

He returned to his office, ignoring Christine's inquiry, and slammed the door behind him. He dropped into his chair and then allowed himself just a moment of frustration and grief and anger to well up, suffuse his body, and take hold. It wasn't fair what happened to him, that Joanna came along too soon in his life, that he encountered a particularly vicious group of marauders who killed two members of his team—a graduate student, a respected colleague; _friends_. He allowed his head to drop into his hands.

~~*~~

"Haven't you done enough?"

Jim lifted his head from the illuminated magnifying glass. He was so completely absorbed in the artifact on the viewing pad before him that it took a few seconds of blinking to focus on Christine Chapel and her furious stance. "I'm sorry. What have I done?"

"You know, he's trying. He really is. But you're not making things easy for him." Christine's fists were balled at her sides and her voice shook. "He's in his office, drinking. And it's not even noon."

"Whoa! Wait, who's drinking?" Jim said, standing. If he was going to get the beat-down, he'd rather do it from his full height. "Is it--Bones drinks?"

"Yes, he does. When he's really upset. Haven't you noticed he's been on edge since you arrived here? Do you know how hard it is to have someone else come into your territory, throw a few smiles around, chat up the staff? Len has worked hard for this. He built this staff, helped build this collection over the past six years. Brought it up from being just a rich man's playground, and really molded it into a first-class, professional, respected research institution and museum," she said, fuming.

Kirk held up his hands again. "Wait, wait! I know all that. Why the hell do you think I agreed to come here? I wouldn't have come if I didn't know this was a top place, that I didn't think Bones had the intellectual chops to back up his work."

"'Bones'?" she asked, annoyance lacing her voice. "What is this 'Bones' stuff? Are you referring to Len?"

Kirk picked up the artifact from the work table. "I am. You know his work with the Indonesian bones, right?"

"Of course."

"Well, then...Bones. Fits, doesn't it?"

Christine gave him an appraising look. It didn't sound like something that would have Leonard drinking before noon. But then again, Kirk had been sticking his foot in his mouth all week. Her eyes narrowed. "What'd you say to him, Kirk?"

"Jim. Please call me Jim."

Christine flapped her hand at him. "Fine, _Jim_. Look, he's working really hard to get this research trip going _if_ we raise the money and installing the exhibit before the fundraiser _and_ writing another paper."

"What's he researching now?"

"That is for him to say." She walked up to him and looked him square in the eye. "Keep your head down, do your job, and be helpful."

"All right, I get it. I'll play nice." Jim held up his hands in a gesture of surrender.

"Good boy."

Jim dropped into his chair again, and picked up a bone piece. It was etched with delicate whorls and patterns that belied its function as an everyday working tool. Leonard McCoy was the one who unlocked the mystery of these bones, and Jim was thrilled that he was finally able to talk to the man who had influenced his own work. Except that Leonard McCoy clearly wanted nothing to do with him.

He sighed as he shifted in the chair and brought the bone piece back under the light. Beautiful, strong, functional and artistic-- _Just like McCoy._


	2. CHAPTER 2

The next months flew by like clouds in a storm. The Pike Museum staff had so much work to do on top of their usual duties and personal research that none of them had much time to worry over Jim Kirk. To his credit, Kirk had dug into his assigned duties and completed them accurately and on deadline. He had inventoried and catalogued two small collections that Leonard had been meaning to do himself, but never managed to. Pavel and Hikaru assisted, and Jim won over the young Russian intern with his encouragement and praise. Hikaru Sulu proved to be an adept technician himself with the ESEM technique Leonard had pioneered, prepping artifacts for dating using the unusual, yet effective method.

“Damn, that is really amazing,” Jim muttered as he analyzed the computer read-out from the microscope’s scans. He checked the field account written by the collector and then his own meticulously researched notes on common artifacts from the region. “It’s dead-on.”

“It really is, Jim,” Sulu said, making a note in the log. “We’ve never been able to get these kinds of readings with the standard dating protocol. I’m thinking we’re going to want to go back and re-test the Simionian stones collection.”

Jim looked up at him. “That would be a good candidate. I was never impressed by the numbers we got. Always thought they were way older.”

Sulu was nodding. “And those carved sticks from the eastern caves of Sulawesi? Way older than we think, I’m sure. The dating data and the research never added up.”

Jim was nodding, too. “Pavel, what have you --”

“Jim, you ready?”

Jim turned to find Nyota Uhura waiting by the elevator with a cart of her program materials. “Oh, yeah. Sorry. I kinda got lost in--it’ll take me just--”

“This can wait, just go. You can’t leave the kids waiting,” Hikaru said as he was practically pushing Jim out of the lab.

~~*~~

Nyota smiled as she watched Kirk scamper to his office. In the few months that Kirk had been there, and despite her initial deeply-felt reservations, she had to admit Kirk had a _way_ about him. She wasn’t sure she’d call it charisma, but he was certainly enthusiastic about her public programs, especially for kids. Kids loved Jim, and he was so good with them. While Leonard was wonderful with them, too, he held too much back, was too much of the academic to make a real connection with them. But Jim, well, he was like a big kid himself. And while that sometimes exasperated her, she knew it wasn’t fake or forced; kids knew when adults were being condescending, and Nyota had to admit to herself that Jim Kirk truly loved archaeology, the museum, and telling kids about the artifacts they were looking at.

“Got it!” he exclaimed.

“Well, then...” She pushed the button on the elevator that would take them to the educational lab upstairs in one of the side exhibit halls.

Jim exited first and helped her pull the cart across the lip of the elevator, taking care to steady the boxes stacked on it. They pushed their cart into the education area where---

“Hi everyone!” Jim called out. “Welcome to the Pike Museum! My name is Jim and I’m an archaeologist!”

Nyota smiled as Jim started his part of the program. Jim wore the “costume” of the archaeologist easily and without guile, looking completely at home in the khaki pocket vest, tool belt, and baseball cap. He was the archetype of an archaeologist as he showed the kids the picks, hammers, and brushes that were part of his field tool kit. One brush he showed never failed to elicit a wonderful reaction: “This is my favorite,” he said, pulling out a toothbrush. “Good for brushing dirt _and_ teeth!” He put the toothbrush in his mouth and moved it around his mouth; the kids all squealed. “What? Oh, you think I use it for both? Nah! Only one job per toothbrush. This really is my toothbrush, though.” He pulled several small stone artifacts from his pockets, passing them around for the children to examine and told them about one particularly exciting adventure in Alaska with his graduate class that involved a large brown bear wandering through their site.

“Now, everyone needs to sit back down and be quiet,” Jim said, “so that Ms. Uhura can tell you about the museum and some of the other really awesome things we have.”

Nyota smiled as Jim turned the program over to her and he then waded into the middle of the group of kids and sat with them.

Nyota picked up artifacts, told the children about each one, why they were important and how they had been found by Pike Museum personnel. Jim passed the artifacts around so that the children around him could see them up close. He focused on the children, answered each question directed his way with care and concern, as if each one were as important as the artifact itself. Then Nyota led them to a large dirt area which represented a dig quadrant and Jim showed them how artifacts were found. Some children went to the dirt box where they used plastic rakes and trowels to uncover small stones, while others took turns looking through the microscopes and examining the barely visible inscriptions on some ancient pottery shards.

From the back of the room, Leonard watched Nyota and Jim open up the world of archaeology for the next generation. Jim pulled a small brush out of his tool belt and handed it to a girl with pigtails, and guided her hand over a section of dirt to show her how to use it. She cried out as she found shards of pottery. It was a standard demonstration, one that Leonard had done many, many times with school groups. But watching Jim Kirk excitedly tell the girl about the pottery pieces and then showing her how to use one of the metal picks, Leonard couldn’t help but smile himself. Joanna had had the same reaction on the last dig they’d made at a Pueblo site in Arizona last year. The shard of pottery had been small, but still retained splashes of color and design; Joanna had thought she’d found the crown jewels she was so excited. Jim carefully took the tool from the child and replaced it in his vest pocket. He then guided several kids over to another part of the dirt plot, and put them to work brushing another area.

Really, it was kind of hard to hate a guy who let a bunch of eight-year-olds play with his field tools.

~~*~~

Leonard pushed one heavily loaded cart into the main exhibit hall.

“Hey there, Doc!” Scotty called out.

“Scotty, how’s it going?” Leonard asked. “Got those new digital lights working yet in the cases?”

“Aye, no problems wi’ that. I like these new-fangled things. Not a bit o’ heat comes off them, eh?” Scotty spun the screwdriver through his fingers and into the belt.

“Yep, that’s why we got ‘em. The artifacts will stay cooler, which is really important for some materials, like fabrics and palm weavings.” He opened the case next to where Scotty was working. “Not so much of that for this exhibit, but it’s nice to have them installed.”

“They’re a mite brighter, too, even with the lower footcandles. Well, good luck with it.”

“Thanks, Scotty.”

Leonard turned to the first set of boxes, and opened the top one. In it lay three lovely pottery pieces. He pulled them out carefully and set them on the earthquake-proof shelving. He put a dot of the museum adhesive on the bottom to make sure they wouldn’t rock should even a major quake hit the city. Of course, there was no guarantee the building would survive a big one, but, so far, Scotty had kept the old building in one piece.

One by one, Leonard placed artifacts and descriptive labels into the large case. Christine did such great work formatting the text, correcting his grammar, and drawing helpful maps and graphs. The gala fundraiser for the museum’s field trip to Sumatra was just days away, and Leonard still had a shit-ton of work to do before their projected date of departure: a major research paper for the journal, a guest lecture to write for a program at the Museum of Asian Art and Culture, curatorial notes for the museum newsletter. And he was due to see Jo over the weekend. While he looked forward to seeing her and taking her sailing, it wasn’t the best time; however, he loathed calling her mother and trying to move his weekend around. He just wasn’t up for the lecture about managing his work and life--again.

He turned and put the now-empty box he’d been holding on the cart. Only thing left to do was move the Sumatran artifacts from the Indonesian room. He walked through the exhibits to the west room of the building and was mildly surprised to find that the case was already empty. He placed a cell phone call to Christine’s office.

“Where are the Sumatran pieces, Chris?” he asked.

“Oh, they’ve been moved already. Look in the case opposite yours.” And she hung up.

Mystified, Leonard walked up to the first of the main hall again, and turned to the right. Much to his great surprise he was staring at a photograph of himself, a much younger self, holding the stone idol he’d found during that last trip---Leonard winced at the memory of his last fieldwork. Shaking it off, he perused the exhibit. It contained the bone pieces that Jim had been studying last month and -- Jim? Leonard read the curator’s statement with Jim’s name on it. He stepped back and took a long look at what _Jim_ had done. There were even pieces he’d collected from a Native American site he’d worked on as an undergrad at Ole Miss, along with a quote from his former professor about his work. _Where the hell did they get those?_ And then it hit him. . . .

“It was his idea,” Christine said softly, coming up behind him.

“But you helped,” he replied.

“Of course I did.” She came around to face him, leaning against the railing separating the public from the glass cases. “You know, when you look at the total body of your work, it’s damn impressive, McCoy.” She pointed to one part of the case with several small pieces and several published papers and a book. “And it’s not just the fieldwork. It’s the putting together disparate strands of research and hypotheses, combined with an expansive knowledge of how cultures function and evolve. You would’ve made a fair anthropologist.”

“Christine--”

“No, Len. Jim’s right. This is _good_ work, and I’m pleased someone recognizes it besides those of us who’ve worked all this time with you. I was happy to help Jim pull this together. I hadn’t realized how much you’ve done in the short time you’ve been here at the Pike. It’s not all about fieldwork. You know what they say about archaeology.”

Leonard grinned. “Yeah, yeah behind our office doors are battered fedoras and bullwhips -- each of us hoping to find the next lost civilization, even though the real work is done in the library and museums.”

“Well, it’s true, and this proves it.” She turned and looked at the case. “Sometimes I think we’ve probably dug up enough stuff. Maybe archaeologists don’t do enough work in the library or engage in deep study to make sense of how humans worked, and raised families, and ordered their lives, how they figured out how to use the world around them to make life just that much easier, that much more convenient. Really, early humans were more remarkable than the average modern person will ever give them credit for. Our job as archaeologists and anthropologists is all about calling attention to that one fact--they did it first, and they did it best. I mean, look at that clay bowl. It’s just as beautiful and functional as anything I could buy at Pottery Barn or make myself in the pottery studio.”

As Christine rambled on, Leonard came close to her and rubbed up against her shoulder. “I think you have laid out the mission of the Pike Museum far better than the one we have on paper.”

She chuckled, and laid her head against his shoulder. “Don’t ask me to repeat it.” She grew silent, and then after a few minutes, she said, “I think it’s appropriate, for this moment in the museum’s history. Don’t make me take it down. Besides, I worked really hard on that text. Jim’s not the greatest writer in the world.”

Leonard looked at her then and gave her a one-arm hug. “I wasn’t going to ask you to do that. I’m just. . .well, I’m embarrassed to have this much attention focused on me. Do we really have to have that title?”

“What? I think ‘The Extraordinary Career of Leonard McCoy, Ph.D’ is pretty apt and to the point.”

“It kinda makes me, I dunno, sound like I’m on my way out.” Christine laughed loudly. “Could you take it down and just leave it titleless? I know that violates all kinds of museum exhibit rules and such but, really, it’s kind of overkill.”

“Aw, Len. Maybe it should read ‘The Extraordinary Career of Leonard McCoy, Ph.D.’ dot dot ‘So Far’.”

“That’s better,” Leonard said, walking back towards the case he was finishing. “Though I would really appreciate losing the ‘extraordinary’.”

“And have Jim come down on me?” she murmured as she walked away. “That was his word, not mine.”

~~*~~

Leonard batted Christine's hand away from his tie. "Enough fussing! I look as well turned-out as I'm going to. Besides, I could be wearing a paper bag and no one will notice with you on my arm, darlin'. You look radiant," he added sincerely. Leonard smiled at Christine and offered her his arm. "Shall we?"

Christine rolled her eyes at Leonard, but flushed lightly at the compliment. "Please?" She took his arm and fluttered her eyes coyly.

Leonard chuckled and strolled slowly toward the stairs. He was pleased that Christine had agreed to accompany him. He wasn't exactly nervous, and he did _not_ have butterflies in his stomach, but he was grateful for Christine's gracious presence and warm smile. It was beyond Leonard how she was so calm. They both knew that the upstairs gallery was slowly filling with a veritable Who's Who of San Francisco's moneyed and elite, and _their_ museum and work were under the microscope. "Has Nyota managed to corral Scotty yet? Or is she still vexed by our Scot?" Leonard asked, trying to distract himself from the gala.

"She phoned earlier. Scotty's coming if she has anything to say about it. She was muttering about his not even owning a tux. The outcome is not in doubt, but it should be interesting. You know that no one resists Nyota..."

"Pavel did."

Christine reached for her dress and held it up as they ascended the stairs. She leaned close and whispered to Leonard, "And you and I both know that Ny wasn't about to subject Pavel to _this_ crowd. They'd eat him alive."

"And probably steal him away. Nyota's a wise, wise woman," Leonard agreed.

As they reached the top of the steps, Leonard stopped, overcome by the transformation. The Pike was housed in an old, converted Victorian mansion, and even though he'd seen the preparations as they moved forward, he'd been too concerned with his own work to pay too close attention to the museum facility. He was pleased with how it turned out: the displays, how they’d highlighted the best of the Pike and the Hearst, mingling their collections so that the donors could see what had already been found and tantalize them with what more was possible.

Christine watched Leonard, pride lighting her face. "It turned out quite lovely, didn't it?"

Leonard nodded. "You and Ny have worked wonders. I've never noticed the chandeliers before... and I had no idea the floors were inlaid." He chuckled. "You, my dear, really are amazing." He swept his arm in an all encompassing wave. “Able to do all this and drop dead gorgeous, too?”

Christine tugged on Leonard's arm, her smile bright. "Stop it. Now, c'mon. You have to see the gardens!"

Leonard allowed himself to be tugged through the large gallery, glancing into the other rooms as they walked. They passed long white-covered buffet tables, a giant ice sculpture glistening in the candlelight, gleaming silver, sparkling crystal, and shining china. Formally clad servers stood at the ready, behind the bar and stationed along the buffet. As much as he hated the forced socializing of these functions, he did enjoy the food and drink. And Pike was a man of discerning taste; the caterers he used were some of the best in the Bay area, so Leonard was looking forward to a delicious meal. He only prayed that his table mates were truly interested patrons and not merely here to see and be seen. Even he had heard that this had quickly become one of _the_ coveted society events of the season, though lord knew why. Most of the folks that would be attending wouldn’t know Indonesian from Aleutian.

Christine dragged him through the wide-open French doors and out onto the balcony overlooking the gardens. He stopped, marveling at the transformation. The gardens were lush with dark green foliage and wide swaths of color. Round dinner tables were sheathed in verdant green so that they blended in, the glowing hurricanes in the centerpieces throwing flickering shadows onto the tables. The candles sparkled and the air was redolent with the heady scent of jasmine, lilac, and honeysuckle overlaying the aroma of newly shorn cedar. The soft sounds of a cello drifted to Leonard's ears and he turned to see the string quartet tuning their instruments. Everything was ready.

Leonard took a deep, steadying breath and leaned on the wrought iron railing, his gaze lifting from the garden to the bay beyond. He loved the view from here; tonight promised clear weather and dark skies. A perfect night, almost as though Christine orchestrated the weather, too. "I can't imagine how you did all this in such a short amount of time. The gardens are usually pretty anemic this time of year, but you’ve turned them into a showpiece worthy of HGTV, darlin’," he breathed.

"It's amazing what a few motivated college kids can do, isn't it?" Christine deflected the compliment.

Leonard snorted. "Not even an army of college kids could do this without the proper direction and equipment. Chris is not paying you enough."

"I'm not paying _who_ enough?"

Leonard hastily straightened and turned, his mouth going dry and his groin tightening at the first sight of Christopher Pike striding out onto the balcony. He licked his lips and then replied with a wry smile and direct gaze. "Christine. She's worked miracles here."

Christine started at something behind Chris and blurted out, "Excuse me!" Then she was gone, the tap of her heels quickly fading into the mansion.

Chris moved to Leonard's side and surveyed his domain, unconcerned by Christine's hasty departure. "If you'd ever stick your head up out of the basement, you'd know that I have been praising Christine's work almost constantly." He stepped back and cocked his head, giving Leonard a quick once-over with his eyes. "Nice. Is that an actual designer tux?"

Leonard had been admiring Chris's body in his suit and only slowly realized that he was supposed to know the answer to Chris's question. He floundered for a minute, then answered, "Um, yeah, I think... Hugo... something."

Chris's right eyebrow raised and he chuckled before settling a large hand on Leonard's shoulder. "You mean Hugo Boss?"

"Why do you know that? We're men, Chris. We don't know shit like that."

"Speak for yourself. I am a man who digs designer clothes." He leered at Leonard. "And men wearing them. Mine's Armani, if you're wondering."

"Not wondering. Don't care. Just know that you look fuckin' hot in it." Leonard leaned in close. "And I'd love to slowly strip you out of it." His voice was low and rough, his accent purposefully thick.

Chris's nostrils flared and his eyes darkened. "Ass."

Leonard pulled back and gave him a smug grin, crossing his arms over his chest. "Definitely."

"Where the hell is the rest of the staff?"

Leonard threw his hands up. "Hey, I did my part. I'm here and dressed appropriately. What more do you want?"

"Where's Kirk and Nyota and Scotty?"

"I'm not Kirk's keeper," he shrugged, working to keep his tone neutral. "But, I'm willing to bet he won't be early. As for Ny and Scotty? They're--"

"We're here!"

Leonard whirled. "Warn a guy!" He stepped to Nyota and kissed her cheeks. "You look lovely, darlin'." His eyes caught sight of hairy knees as he hugged Nyota. "Scotty?"

"Aye. Like my formal wear, do ye?"

"Formal?" Leonard squeaked.

Nyota stepped in. "It's definitely formal for Scotland and it was all he had."

Just then the Cartwrights were escorted to the balcony and Chris introduced them around. Leonard had never met Vanessa Cartwright before, and she was definitely a beautiful woman, seemingly many years younger than her husband. But Leonard had to stifle a yelp when he felt his ass patted and then squeezed. His eyes widened when he realized that there was no way it had been anyone but Mrs. Cartwright. She gave him a clear-eyed smile and he scrambled for an out.

"Oh. Um. Excuse me. It was a pleasure, Dean and _Mrs._ Cartwright. I need to check on one particular display." He was quickly backing away from the group, determined to keep his backside out of reach. "Ladies," he nodded to Nyota and Mrs. Cartwright before turning and fleeing until his feet crossed the threshold into the museum. Taking a deep breath, he looked around, his eyes lingering on the bar, but before he could move in that direction, the door opened and Jim Kirk walked in. But he didn't just walk in -- he _owned_ the room. The lady on his arm was stunning, a red-headed beauty in a revealing green dress that hugged her ample curves. Leonard swallowed, completely unnerved from being groped and how strongly he was reacting to Jim Kirk in a tux. He tried to convince himself that it was the redhead he was staring at, but knew he'd been caught when his eyes met Jim's.

Jim's eyes twinkled and he smirked at Leonard. His stomach dropped as Jim wrapped an arm around his date's waist and literally twirled her around the large foyer, his eyes never leaving Leonard’s. They finished with a showy dip and softly pressed lips, the redhead’s green eyes fluttering closed as Jim's intense blue dared Leonard to say something.

Leonard swallowed and gritted his teeth. _James T. Kirk was not going to get to him! Not his blue, blue eyes. Not his wicked, teasing smile. Not his long, lean body. No. Just. No!_ He fixed a pleasant smile to his face as they straightened.

"Jim!" Gaila giggled, breathless as she straightened her dress. She held out a hand to Leonard, her green eyes glowing knowingly. "You must be Dr. McCoy. I'm Gaila Dullea, a post-doc in astrophysics at Cal. I've heard _so_ much about you."

Leonard's eyes flicked to Jim, but returned to the beautiful woman before him. He took her hand, gently, decided two could play Jim's game, and turned it, brushing his lips against the back. Even if Jim's mere presence was grating on his nerves, making his pulse race, he was enchanted by Gaila. Her soft Irish lilt and sweet smile gave him something to hold onto, something other than his annoyance with Jim. "Don't believe a word of it, ma'am, unless it was all good, then you can count on it." He grinned crookedly and offered his arm to Gaila, as he met Jim’s gaze. “Mind if I steal the enchanting Gaila away for a few moments?”

At Jim’s easy nod, Gaila took his arm and turned away without a backward glance.

Leonard looked, of course. He couldn't help himself, but Jim didn't look annoyed. Instead he looked smug and that set Leonard's teeth on edge, but he bit back a retort and simply led Gaila to the terrace. "Let me introduce you to the rest of the staff."

Leonard felt Jim’s gaze, his neck prickling, but he ignored it, smiling as he introduced Gaila to everyone. He chuckled to himself when Scotty stepped forward gallantly, the normally awkward Scot easily liberating Gaila from his arm as they chatted easily about their homelands.

Vanessa Cartwright tried to catch his eye, but he quickly turned away, determined for that drink to ease the jittery, jumpy feeling in his stomach; he almost ran smack into Jim. “Looks like your date is enamored with Scotty.”

Jim shrugged, then grinned. “She’ll be back if she wants to be. Buy you a drink?”

Despite himself, Leonard chuckled, shaking his head as they walked to the bar. “Mighty generous offer, Kirk. You always offer to buy when it’s an open bar? You sure your adoring public can spare you?”

“The night is young, Bones, and there’s plenty of Jim Kirk to go around.”

Chris was generous with the bar, serving only the best. Leonard raised an eyebrow as Jim ordered sparkling water for himself and bourbon, neat, for Leonard. He had no idea Jim had paid that kind of attention the few times the group had gotten together for drinks.

“Water?”

Jim stopped, then gave him a disarming smile. “Designated driver.”

“Ahhh,” Leonard murmured as he accepted the drink, lifting the glass in toast, before taking a sip. Something about Jim’s answer didn’t seem right, but Leonard just added it to the puzzle that was Jim Kirk. The man was a study in contrasts and Leonard hadn’t yet been able to reconcile his starkly different sides.

“Len!” He turned to see Christine rushing across the room.

“Oh, Jim! Good. I need you both. Can you believe that one of the founders of Google is here? Can you believe it? Sergey Brin himself. He’s asking questions only you two can answer.” She stepped between them, linking their arms and turning toward the terrace.

Jim smiled fondly at Christine. “Lead on, Ms. Chapel. We’ll do _anything_ for money.” He gave Leonard a wink behind Christine’s head.

Leonard blinked and quickly swallowed his drink, setting the glass on a server’s tray as they passed. He was going to need the liquid courage to make it though this night, especially if Jim insisted on looking at him like that. _Fuck._

Somehow Leonard made it through the conversation with Mr. Google himself. He should have been impressed, but his eyes glazed over as Christine and Brin’s conversation turned to cell phones and networking. Leonard left them to follow Jim, who had been dragged away by Mrs. Cartwright. At this point even _she_ was preferable to death by technology aficionados.

Leonard looked around, stopped for a few moments to appreciate Chris’s skill at working the room. He marveled at how comfortable Chris was in his own skin, how easily he conversed with businessmen and academics, how the society matrons would flutter and hang on his every word. Christopher Pike was born to this and Leonard enjoyed watching him. He caught Chris’s eye once and gave him a secretive smile before getting another drink.

 _Tonight’s not so bad,_ Leonard thought, sipping his bourbon and smiling at Uhura across the foyer.

“Leonard!”

Leonard’s eyes widened at that voice. _Fuck!_ he hissed to himself. He swallowed the bourbon and turned, a polite smile on his face, his right hand automatically extended as he took two steps forward. “Jocelyn! Clay! What a surprise! I had no idea you were interested in Pacific Rim antiquities.”

Clay Treadway, his ex-wife’s current husband, gripped his hand and shook it vigorously. “McCoy, old boy! You know this was _the_ event of the season, wouldn’t miss it for the world! No one loves insurance like the well-heeled,” he smirked, nudging Leonard with his elbow.

Jocelyn took Leonard’s hand and pivoted them. “So, Leonard, I hear Mrs. Winifred Phillips is here. Can you introduce me?”

Clay intervened, taking Jocelyn’s hand and placing it over his arm. “C’mon, honey. Leonard’s quite busy right now, I’m sure. You’ll get your chance at the maven of society, but first we’re mingling with a few of the local business leaders.”

Jocelyn glared at Clay and Leonard smiled to himself, his whole body relaxed as the Treadways walked away.

“Wasn’t that your ex?”

“Yep,” Leonard nodded, afraid to take his eyes off the pair, especially when he quite clearly heard Jocelyn introduce herself as Jocelyn _McCoy_ Treadway.

“You seem pretty unconcerned,” Uhura noted.

Leonard tilted his head and grinned, wonder lighting his eyes. “You know what? I am. Completely and totally. That woman is no longer my problem. Clay deserves her.”

“They actually seem well suited,” Uhura agreed, her smile vicious.

“You, m’dear, are a woman after my own heart.” Leonard offered Uhura his arm. “Have you met Jim Morris yet?”

“Who?” Uhura gracefully took his arm as they begin walking to the terrace.

“The General Manager of Pixar. I managed to talk him out of an animation cel of ‘WALL-E’ for Joanna.”

“You old schmoozer, you. I had no idea you had it in you.”

“For Joanna, even I can schmooze.”

Uhura looked up at Leonard, a soft smile on her face. “You’re just an old softy, admit it.”

“Not on your life, darlin’,” he grinned back.

“Uhura!"

They both turned to see Christine leading an elegantly dressed middle-aged woman toward them. “Nyota Uhura, this is Ms. Penelope Bettany, the Head of Development at the Hearst. We were just discussing some plans and Penny had the best idea. We wanted your opinion and input.”

Leonard smiled at the ladies, greeted Ms. Bettany, and hastily made his exit. He knew well enough not to be standing nearby when Christine and Nyota were ‘planning’, otherwise he’d be drafted.

Needing a quick 'nature' break, Leonard headed down the stairs to the restrooms. Before he turned the corner to the men’s room, however, he heard a deep chuckle, its familiar warmth sending sparks down his spine. “Goddamned Kirk! Can't even take a piss without him showing up in all his fuckin' glory!” he growled to himself, but stopped, unwilling to confront those intense blue eyes and that ever-present smirk.

Before he could turn back around and ascend the stairs he heard another voice, the accent rich and thick, but oddly familiar. "So, what'll it take, Kirk? Just how much before I get a _private_ showing?"

Something about that voice, about the assumption of privilege in its softly accented consonants stuck in Leonard's craw and ate at him; it made him want to punch the owner.

"Stop it, Oleg. This is a fundraiser for the _museum_. I'm not on the menu,” Kirk teased, his voice husky and sensuous, each vowel laced with innuendo. Leonard was torn. Kirk didn't need saving, so why was he still standing here listening?

"At least give me your number and let me take you to dinner?" The unknown Oleg's voice was muffled, as though he was pressing close to someone. "We can fly up to Vancouver in my private jet. Have dinner in one of my favorite restaurants. I'll double my pledge."

"You drive a hard bargain, Oleg. Triple your donation and you’ve got a date.” Len could hear Jim’s smile, could see his blue eyes focused solely on Oleg as his licked his lips. _Fuck!_

“You are shrewd man, Jim. I think you are not mere archaeologist, but keen businessman.”

Leonard heard them shift, first rustling and then a mumbled curse, jerking him back to his present position. Taking a deep breath, he tapped his foot on the bottom step, hopefully alerting Jim and this _Oleg_ to his presence. He rounded the corner and met Jim, his blue eyes wide as he hastily straightened his tie and began to button his jacket. Leonard had never before known the true meaning of _artfully disheveled_ but that was the only way to describe Jim at this moment as Leonard’s mouth went dry in appreciation.

"Bones!" Jim hesitated for a moment, his eyes darting between Leonard and Oleg before he grinned, as unconcerned as ever. “Have you met Oleg Korolev?”

“Can’t say I have had the pleasure.” Leonard shook Oleg’s outstretched hand, noting the telltale flush suffusing his face and his rumpled jacket and tie. “Doctor Leonard H. McCoy, curator here at the Pike.”

“Doctor McCoy, it is a pleasure. You have an intriguing collection.” His eyes flicked to Jim before returning to Len. “Such beautiful... _wild_ pieces.”

Leonard gritted his teeth against Oleg’s obvious innuendo. The man oozed money from his very pores and Chris would kill Leonard if he punched a wealthy donor, especially one who was intent on tripling his donation. He swallowed his anger and gave Oleg a fake smile. “Thank you. The Pike’s not large, but we have a unique collection and are very proud of it.” He tried to ignore Jim even though he felt the man’s eyes on him, wondered what he was thinking, if he was uncomfortable that his ‘tryst’, or whatever the hell it was, had been overheard. Leonard dismissed that thought. He didn’t want to dwell on what he’d heard. He really just needed to piss. “If you’ll excuse me, I was on my way…” he stopped and jerked his thumb toward the men’s room door.

“Oh! Right! Sorry, Bones! Didn’t mean to stop you!” Jim seemed almost relieved as he pressed a hand to the middle of Oleg’s back and began to urge him up the stairs.

Leonard did not watch them leave or waste any more thought for Jim Kirk, even though he did, quite a lot, in fact, over the course of the evening. It seemed everywhere he turned, Jim Kirk was standing too close to someone, whether it was a beautiful lady, an elderly matron, or a handsome Russian playboy. Leonard was getting tired just watching Jim smile, flirt, laugh, and greet every patron personally. He didn’t know how the guy did it.

By the time dinner was over, Leonard was exhausted from making small talk and humoring his tablemates, not a one of them truly interested in his work. Instead he found himself nodding emptily to chatter about fashion, sports, charity bazaars, and gossip, especially about who was sleeping with whom. Unfortunately, Jim Kirk’s name came up too often and Leonard could only grit his teeth and pretend he had not heard, especially when Winifred Phillips’s granddaughter whispered over his head that Jim was sleeping with both Vanessa Cartwright _and_ her son, Winston.

So, it was with great relief when he could stand and walk away. He was determined to have another bourbon, or two, to help him make it through the rest of the evening. Of course, his horrid luck had other ideas.

Leonard strode into the grand ballroom, intent on that drink, but his attention was taken by the decadent desserts on a side table. He wavered and did not notice who was standing at the bar until he glanced up, and groaned.

He considered turning and running, but it was too late. Jim had seen him and caught his eye. He was stuck.

“Jocelyn, have you met the curator here at the Pike?” Jim had his arm around Jocelyn and she turned, her smile feral. Leonard recognized the glint in her eyes, the way the blue was almost green, the slight flush. Jocelyn was drunk and leaning into Jim as she held another glass of wine.

Jocelyn kissed Jim on the cheek and nodded. “Oh, I have, Jim. I have. I’ve followed his work for _years._ ”

Jim was no fool, he could feel the tension even if he didn’t understand its cause, but his sunny demeanor didn’t fade. Leonard had to give it to him--he was a master at social niceties. He kept his arm looped around Jocelyn’s waist, and at that moment, Leonard realized that Jim was holding her steady. “Should we find a nice quiet place for you to rest, Joce?” Jim asked sweetly.

Leonard froze. He did _not_ need to hear Jim use that voice on his goddamned ex-wife.

Jocelyn smiled at Jim, her eyes had softened and she was once again the beauty that he had fallen for so long ago. “Why, James Kirk! I never!”

 _Ha! Only if never means in the last two days!_ Leonard glared at Jocelyn, his eyes darting around as he hunted for Clay. “Jocelyn, stop it. Jim, meet my ex-wife.”

Jim stilled, his face a frozen mask as his eyes widened. Obviously, Jocelyn had neglected to drop his name when introducing herself to Jim.

Leonard rolled his eyes, but Jim recovered quickly. He nodded to Leonard, and began to maneuver Jocelyn toward the stairs. “Have no fear, Bones, Jocelyn’s virtue is safe with me,” Jim replied as cool as ever.

Leonard shook his head. He doubted Jim’s virtue was safe with Jocelyn. Fuck, but this had been a long-assed night and he needed that drink. Now.

“Can I help you, sir?”

“Bourbon, neat.” He heard Jocelyn’s laughter ring across the room and Jim’s mellow baritone answered it. “Better make it a double, unless I can talk you outta the bottle?”

~~*~~

Leonard dropped his head back against the wall, his eyes staring into the dark night as his hand tugged on his tie. A shooting star flashed across the dark sky and he found himself closing his eyes and wishing, fervently, and with more hope than an old cynic like himself should feel. He closed his eyes and sighed.

“Don’t you know it’s not safe to look like _that_ in public? You might attract… _unsavory_ attention.”

Leonard shivered as Chris’s breath brushed against his ear, the other man’s warmth pressing into his side. His eyes shot open and he looked up at Chris, the exhaustion vanishing in the heated gray depths, the near constant hum of desire ramping up in an instant. “Jesus, Chris, don’t sneak up on a guy like that!”

Chris leaned closer. “Why? You afraid you might reveal too much? Might show me what a greedy bitch you are?” A warm hand gripped Leonard through his trousers before lifting to Chris’s tie and loosening it. He smirked at Leonard’s low moan.

“Ass,” Leonard growled.

“C’mon, Len. I’ll give you a ride home,” Chris reached for his arm and Leonard pushed away from the wall, sudden heat roaring through him.

Leonard moved close, uncaring of the few serving staff still working in the garden. “Just a ride in your car, Chris?”

Chris’s eyes widened and his jaw clenched. “By all accounts we raised more than our goal, I think we have reason to celebrate.” His breath hitched as Len pressed his hip into Chris’s cock. “What do you want, Len?”

Leonard lifted his hand, slid Chris’s tie aside, opened his top button and wrapped his hand around Chris’s neck, pulling them so close together that their harsh breaths mingled. “I want to fuck you in that huge bed of yours, pound into you until you’re screaming, begging to come.”

“Fuuuuck,” Chris gasped. He blinked and stepped back, looking shell shocked and almost stunned.

Leonard smirked as he licked his lips, eyes locked with Chris’. “Let’s go.” Linking their hands, he pulled Chris into the mansion and toward the carpark.

Jim stepped out from the shadows behind the stacked music stands and chairs, watching them leave from beneath heavily hooded eyes.

~~*~~

“What’s the hurry, Gaila?”

“I need my purse out of your car. Hurry! Monty’s waiting.”

Jim stopped, planted his feet and frowned at Gaila. “Monty? Who the hell’s Monty?”

What a fucked up night he’d had. Damn Leonard McCoy all to hell! Him and his fucking millionaire boyfriend! Jim growled and crossed his arms over his chest, shaking his head.

Galia sighed, and lifted up on her toes, placing a light kiss on Jim’s lips even as she smoothed his furrowed brow. “Montgomery Scott, and don’t you dare go all caveman on me. I only agreed to come when you promised that I could leave if I found someone interesting. And I did.”

She stepped back and cocked her head at Jim, her hands on shapely hips, as she pouted at Jim. Fucking _pouted._ She knew he couldn’t resist that. “Please, Jim?”

Jim relented, but he was still pissed. Not at Gaila, because she had been there as eye candy, as enticement to ensure that all eyes, especially a particular pair of hazel ones, were on Jim. That, she’d accomplished in spades, but now Jim was dealing with something that he had not expected. At all. Bones and Pike—who would’ve thought? He was a bit at sea, drifting at that knowledge, confused by his reaction, and he hated not having everything tightly under his control.

He muttered to himself the entire walk to his car. Gaila stopped him as he reached to open her door. She pressed a cool hand on his cheek and looked at him. “Whoever’s got you this bothered better be worth it, Jim.”

“Gaila,” he cautioned her, but she was never deterred.

“Don’t try to lie to me. You’re upset and it’s not about work or the fundraiser. It’s about someone... and by the way you’re fuming this... _guy_ left with someone else.”

“Am I that transparent?” Jim opened the door, his words dropping onto the leather upholstery of his small convertible.

“Only to me, Jim. I bet even Sulu would never know what you were hissing like a wet cat about.” She reached into the car and grabbed her purse. “Too bad you didn’t take Oleg up on his offer.”

Jim cautioned. “Gaila.”

“I know. You’re not like that! You’re just _drawn_ that way!” The old joke eased some of the tension between them.

A car pulled up; its lights blinding them before the driver gave two small beeps. “That’s Monty! Got to run!” Gaila kissed Jim’s cheek and hopped into the other car, which sped away, leaving Jim blinking.

Sighing, Jim took off his tie and tossed it onto the seat before moving to the driver’s side of the car. He was stone cold sober and, for the first time in a very long time, he regretted it.

~~*~~

 _Three Months Later..._

It had been a couple of long, long days. First, packing everything up at the Pike and getting it loaded onto the truck in a driving rain had been a pain. Tempers were a little short, his chief among them. He tried to hold everything in check, but being tired and dealing with a weepy Joanna all day, who couldn’t understand why she couldn’t go with them, had him on the edge of meltdown for the better part of two days. He’d barely had time to get his personal gear together, and then very later on, after Jocelyn had retrieved their daughter, he’d found he had to do a load of laundry, which kept him up later than he’d wanted. Second, the airline had slapped an over-weight fine on their gear, even though Christine had made arrangements, which were then ignored, and that made Chris angry. When Chris got angry he held it in, allowing it to smolder and intensify. Sitting next to him, Leonard felt the waves of displeasure radiating, which unsettled Leonard; he’d found it impossible to sleep on the flight, something that he’d been counting on. And now they found themselves in an un-air-conditioned part of the Jakarta airport, the next stop on their multi-leg journey, trying to get through the customs check-point. At least they had made it through most of the red tape and the inevitable delays and questions that came with an archaeological expedition. It had happened everywhere he’d ever gone on a dig in a foreign nation. It was expected, and for the most part Leonard had always just accepted it and tried to go with the flow, as much as his personality would allow. This time, Christopher Pike was in charge, and as customs experiences went, this one was going swimmingly. Jim, it turned out, had grown up in Indonesia and had lived in Sumatra during his most formative years.

“Wait, wait,” Leonard had said when Jim was telling Christine a story about his six-year-old self growing up in Padang, and then moving to Medan, and having trouble understanding his new playmates. “You grew up in West Sumatra?”

“Yeah. My dad was in the diplomatic mission, and after he died, my mom stayed. She’d been in the Peace Corps before she married him, loved it here, ergo, we stayed until I entered high school and we moved back to Iowa,” Jim said, shrugging. “Gotta admit that while Christmas in Riverside is nice and all with the snow, it can’t beat climbing coconut trees and swimming in the ocean.”

Leonard had looked at the amused faces of everyone on his team. “And why is it that it appears I’m the only one who wasn’t privy to this information about you?”

“You never asked, Bones,” Jim had replied.

And didn’t that make Leonard McCoy feel like he needed to turn in his credentials, burn his Ph.D. and finally admit he was a self-absorbed bastard. “Why is it that I’m the last to know?” he had muttered.

“Because you haf much to do?” Pavel had replied. “Jim had lunch wit me many times, and he told stories of growing up in Sumatra. I told him about my childhood in Russia, though my life is much more quiet than his.”

“Yeah, but I should have known.”

“We haf all been busy, Leonard. It was not possible for you to do all things at once.”

Leonard had smiled at the young intern. He really had been pissed at Chris for not filling him in on everything about Jim, especially this fairly important fact.

And now, standing in the customs hangar, Len had to grudgingly admit that Jim’s command of the native dialects was stronger than even Pike’s. The two of them together were formidable and very few of the customs officials could resist their charm. Their equipment was given the once-over, with officials looking inside the cases instead of demanding that every single tool be taken out and manhandled. Suitcases were passed through standard x-ray equipment, and not opened and pawed through. All the while, Jim kept up a lively chatter with the front-line guards, while Chris carried on a more sedate conversation with the official in charge. So it was that Leonard felt oddly off-kilter, and a bit of a fifth wheel when they finally arrived at the Museum Nasional Jakarta.

Luckily for him, Dr. Spock (the guy had never revealed his given name, saying it was “unpronounceable”, which always made Leonard roll his eyes) was _his_ contact and he was the final signature on their approval for the dig. As the curator of the National Museum of Jakarta ( _Museum Nasional Jakarta_ ), he also held the position of Associate Minister of Cultural Affairs, high enough up the bureaucratic chain to have the authority to sign off on any foreign archaeological expeditions. Even so, Spock needed to check in with the Minister himself, at the request of Pike.

“Spock, it’s good to see you,” Leonard said to his stoic colleague. Every time Leonard had encountered Spock at professional meetings and exchanges, he’d always declined to shake Leonard’s hand, or anyone’s, for that matter. So as a greeting, Leonard opted to simply give him a head nod of respect.

“Dr. McCoy, it is agreeable to once again see you,” Spock replied in that calm voice, his hands grasped behind his back. “I trust our Customs personnel were courteous to you and your colleagues.”

“No less and no more courteous than I expected,” he replied gruffly. “Chris and Jim are fluent enough in the dialect here to keep things going along pretty well. I didn’t lose any of my tools this time around.”

“I am pleased to hear that. An archaeologist’s tools are his lifeblood. It still grieves me that one of my countrymen confiscated your favorite pick last time.”

Leonard was only mildly surprised Spock remembered that minor detail. He’d only mentioned it the one time, though in anger. “Yes, well, it was an opportunity to find one I like even better, thanks.” Then, he remembered he had everyone else with him.

“Spock, of course you know Christopher Pike?” he said, holding out his hand to the group behind him.

“Yes, of course, Mr. Pike.” He inclined his head as Chris stepped forward and acknowledged the curator. “As always, we are grateful to you for your support of the museum and your continuing interest in our cultural heritage. It is a privilege to be a partner with your institution on our mutual endeavors.”

“Thank you, Dr. Spock,” Chris replied with an air of formality. “I am grateful to _you_ and your office for helping to expedite our permits. It’s always a pleasure to have an expert on site who can explain the significance of our work to the authorities.”

“Yes, Minister Kusujiarti is quite amenable to expeditions that choose to work through our office. Your reputation with the Ministry of Culture is spotless, Mr. Pike, and your respect of our national heritage is well known and appreciated.”

Leonard watched with pride as Chris’s expression changed to one of surprise, and gave a slight bow. “I am very pleased to hear that, Dr. Spock. I love Indonesia as much as my own country. It has been my pleasure to work with the museum in preserving the vital artifacts of its national life.”

With those pleasantries exchanged, Leonard drew the rest of the party around. “This is Christine Chapel, the best cataloguer and database manager anywhere.”

“Miss Chapel,” Spock said, “I very much appreciate perusing the online database of the Pike. Perhaps you can have a conversation with our cataloguer about the design of your template.”

“I would be happy to,” she replied. “Thank you.”

“Pavel Chekov, our intern from the Moscow Sciences Academy. Hikaru Sulu of the University of California at Berkeley, and Jim--”

“Dr. Spock, it is good to see you again,” Jim said, stepping forward, and then speaking to Spock in Indonesian. _“It is a pleasure to return to the place of my birth. I have been away far too long and must reacquaint myself with her beauty. But Indonesia never leaves my heart.”_ And he gave Spock a traditional bow, which Spock returned.

 _“It is good for you to return, Dr. Kirk,”_ Spock replied in Indonesian. _“Perhaps we should speak in English now.”_

Leonard smiled. While Christine could speak passable Indonesian, Pavel and Hikaru did not, even though both were multi-lingual. His own command of Indonesian had improved vastly from the last time he’d worked in Sumatra, and he was pleased he could follow the conversations with the Jakartan customs officials, who spoke a regional dialect, and with Spock, who spoke more formally.

“Now, while I have filed all the necessary papers and permit requests,” Spock said, “I would very much like to see exactly where you are going and why you wish to dig in that location. Dr. McCoy, your original request listed a different site. The place on your amended permit request is unusual, one that I have not thought to be of archaeological significance.”

Leonard and Chris turned to Jim, who was pulling a folder out of his messenger bag. Spock led them to a large table mounted with a relief map of Sumatra. “Two months ago, I had the opportunity to do some research at the Museum of Anthropology at the University of British Columbia in Vancouver. They aren’t usually known for their Indonesian collections, but one of my grad buddies from UCLA called and told me about a manuscript collection he’d been working on. It was written in Sanskrit, or so he thought.”

Jim pulled out several large sheaths of photocopies. “This is written in very early Tamil script in Old Malay language and some in Sanskirt. There aren’t many examples of this script.” He pointed at several lines. “Nyota Uhura, the Pike’s _amazing_ linguist, and Bones here, uh, Dr. McCoy, and using your museum’s database of ancient Indonesian writings, we were able to identify the script. Once we figured that out, we did the translation. It talks of a ‘cave of immense darkness’ high in the mountains along the ‘rippling diamonds’, or at least that’s what we think it says.”

Spock bent his head over the photocopy. “I believe you are correct. That is how I would translate it as well.”

“Good! Then we are all literally on the same page. These lines talk about landmarks, ancient natural landmarks that the people used to delineate boundaries and places of religious significance. We think there was a temple here, high above Lake Toba on the southeastern side.” He pointed to a place on the map.

“That is a very creative interpretation of the script, Dr. Kirk. I do not think there is any archaeological, anthropological or archival evidence to support such a hypothesis,” Spock said calmly.

Leonard mentally snorted. Spock might be extremely knowledgeable about everything archaeological in Indonesia, but he knew the curator’s area of expertise lay in the islands to the east of Sumatra. The calm response to their proposed study area was akin to him telling them they were full of it.

“But,” Jim said, reaching into his bag again, “Mr. Pike was able to pull some favors from our government and bagged some satellite time from uh, well, the Department of Defense.” Spock’s eyebrow rose. “Sometimes they use their evil powers for good.” He shrugged as he pulled out a thickly folded square of paper. “Now, this shows”--he unfolded a very large black and white digital photographic print--”contours here, here, and here. These contours that do not follow the natural valley and hill swells, which is indicative of human activity.”

He stepped aside to allow Dr. Spock to take a closer look at the satellite image. “You can even see on the geological map here that there’s a slight depression in between these two hills near the edge of the lake. This is where we want to explore.”

“Fascinating,” Spock murmured as he studied the photo closely. “I cannot believe no one has ever determined that this was the site of human activity.”

“Well, it’s camouflaged by trees and heavy undergrowth,” Chris interjected. “In all my years of study, I’ve never seen this, nor heard any inkling of rumors there was ever anything interesting about that region.”

“The thing is, the area around the lake is becoming more developed,” Leonard said, pointing to buildings and a village on the northeast end of the lake. “This part is still pretty rural because of the steepness of the land falling towards the lake. And, it’s difficult to reach because there aren’t any roads due to the sharp elevations up to the summit and then around the side of the mountain to the site.” He tapped his finger against the glass case over the map. “Makes sense. The manuscript speaks of ‘blades reaching the sky’. These hills here and here are fairly sharp, but the heavy vegetation covers it up.”

“You know, it might be useful to do a fly-over,” Hikaru said, coming to stand closer. “Just to check the site out for ourselves.”

“Ooh, that is a good idea,” Jim said. “Hikaru is a certified pilot.”

“Truly?” Spock asked. “If you are, we can arrange with the local air traffic officials in Medan to issue you a permit to fly a small craft, but it may be costly.”

“That’s not a problem, Mr. Spock,” Chris said. “You may have your staff arrange everything we need for Mr. Sulu to do a flyover as soon as possible.”

“Excellent. And now, if you will pardon me, I will speak to my assistant at the Ministry who will make all the necessary arrangements and permits for your pilot. Mr. Sulu, please come with me so that you can fill out the paperwork to accompany your request.”

“Sure thing.”

Jim gave Hikaru a bright smile and nod as he walked towards the office with Spock. “This will be fantastic,” Jim said to the rest of the team. “If we can get a good aerial view of what we’re dealing with, I think we can find this cave or cellar or something the manuscript alludes to. This isn’t going to be a cake walk because when the rains come, it’s tough, especially in the mountains, and most especially up on a ridge like we’ll be.”

“Sumatra doesn’t really have a monsoon season,” Leonard added. “It rains pretty much all the damn time. Jim’s right. There will be lots of down time.”

With Spock checking on the additional arrangements for an airplane, Leonard, Jim and Chris, along with Pavel and Christine, roamed the museum, checked out the displays. Christine was taking notes on how some of the artifacts were not in properly secured cases and were exposed to heat from the lamps. Leonard and Jim discussed the arrangement of the artifacts.

“Is it me, or does there not seem to be a rhyme or reason to how these artifacts here--and over here,” Jim said as he pointed to another case, “are described? They have the same provenance, and yet they aren’t physically placed together. I would’ve thought Dr. Spock would take more care in keeping items together by find rather than by the type of material they’re made of? That’s how it’s done at the Pike and at the Hearst.”

“True,” Leonard said, reading the plate. “I hate to criticize a colleague’s shop without all the information, but this is a little surprising. Spock is very precise in his research, probably one of the best I’ve ever encountered. His field notes are impeccable. Ooh, bad typo in this exhibit note.”

“You know, I’m really not thrilled at all that we in the museum and archaeological communities have spread the artifacts all around the world.” Jim bit his lip and worried it. “Seems to me the cultures we’re exploring deserve to have all their things in one place. Like, what are we doing?”

“Jim, you know how museum culture works,” Leonard said, facing him. “Museums are part and parcel products of a shameful history of plunder and pillaging, of mighty and powerful empires conquering and controlling cultures and peoples that could not defend themselves.”

“Yeah, but shouldn’t we be sending stuff back? Look at this place.” Jim waved his arms around. "This museum could handle everything we have in the states."

“Am I sensing dissension in the ranks?” Chris asked from behind them.

Leonard turned and faced him, giving him a grin. “Nah. We’re just having an academic debate on the merits of museums and cultures.”

“Sounds a little more passionate than mere ivory tower musings from Jim’s point of view.”

“Look,” Jim started, “I’m just asking the question: shouldn’t we be repatriating artifacts to their country of origin, especially when there are museums like this? The Museum Nasional Jakarta has the technology, the facilities and the personnel to handle them.”

“Maybe,” Chris said. “But consider the history of museums and collecting, especially museums that have been in existence for hundreds of years like the British and the Smithsonian. A lot of artifacts have no paper trail, no idea how they came to be there and where some of their artifacts came from, so determining who gets it is a huge issue. Then, there’s the money. There’s a lot of money invested in those artifacts. I know!” He held up his hands as Jim started to argue with him. “Consider this as well. Would archaeology, no, would the _world_ , the understanding and appreciation of and the education about other peoples and cultures be advanced if one culture kept all their artifacts? And like the library at Alexandria, do we want to risk putting one country or culture’s artifacts all in one place? What are the security issues? Even in the United States, the archaeological collections are dispersed throughout thousands of institutions.”

“And because of digitization,” Leonard interrupted, “we can unite the world’s collections online through virtual catalogues and inventories. One day, we will able to have a world catalog, like WorldCat for books, of all the artifacts of Indonesia, free and available for anyone to view and study.”

After saying his piece, Leonard stepped back to listen to Jim and Chris continue to spar verbally. Pike, of course, being the son of merchants, was more than willing to purchase pieces and collections, though he thoroughly vetted and researched his immediate suppliers. That had been the genesis of the Pike after all. His father’s private collection had been the foundation, and coupled with all of his own acquisitions throughout the years, he had amassed an impressive collection through purchase and sponsoring expeditions. So it was hard to argue against Chris’s philosophy since the Pike Museum had kept the items out of the hands of private collectors who kept them locked them away; instead they were placed into a collection where they were actively preserved, studied, and _shared_.

Leonard saw both sides, but his feelings on the matter were more academic and less imbued with emotion than Jim’s. He could not bear to see artifacts slowly disintegrating or neglected in substandard conditions, their wealth of knowledge and understanding lost to carelessness and corruption. Not every country could devote the resources necessary to maintaining a museum. He was ever and always a student of history and civilization, and the idea that all trace of past peoples could be so easily lost was disheartening.

So he listened with half an ear as Chris and Jim continued to argue, Jim’s passion evident. Jim Kirk was turning out to have a lot more layers than Leonard gave him credit for. He wasn’t a kid, but a seriously adept researcher, archaeologist, and linguist; Jim had ascribed to him far too much credit in helping to translate the manuscripts from British Columbia--it was all Nyota’s and Jim’s doing. Jim thought things through carefully; he was friendly and gracious to everyone on staff. He had an encyclopedic knowledge of Pacific Rim cultures and archaeological history; his thinking, original and provocative. When they talked, when Leonard _wasn’t being a jerk_ (he thought with a grimace), Jim always addressed him directly, listened carefully, and thought through his responses. Watching him handle the usually taciturn and uncooperative customs officials at the airport had made Leonard take a long, hard look at the young man--well, not so very young; he was nearly thirty, after all.

And then there was the exhibit he’d organized and mounted of Leonard’s work. Christine had said Jim had insisted on it. And while it was definitely flattering and more than a little mystifying, Leonard simply could not fathom why Jim would want to, well, _honor_ him like that. He watched Jim talking to Chris, his vivid blue eyes conveying so much of his feelings. Right now they were a stark contrast to the grey overtones of the exhibits, like sapphires amongst ordinary rock. His blond hair a shining beacon. He was slender and well-muscled, attractive. . . .Their interactions had set off uncomfortable small explosions in Leonard’s stomach, which kind of annoyed him. However, on more than one occasion, Leonard found himself admiring Jim; okay, _lusting_ after him. He’d caught Christine and Nyota ogling Jim from afar and whispering about how hot Jim looked when he wore jeans, especially the tight ones. Even Leonard had to admit, Jim’s looked fabulous. Almost as fabulous as Chris’s.

It was at that very thought that Chris caught his eye and gave him an odd half-smile over Jim’s shoulder. Leonard returned it and momentarily lost his train of thought.

 _Chris_. God, it had been ages since they’d been with each other, not really since the night of the fundraiser. After that, both had been incredibly busy, what with Chris organizing the expedition with Indonesian officials and making additional fundraising trips around the West Coast. Leonard had been up to his neck in research and writing and spending additional time with Joanna since he’d be gone for several months. Except for hurried lunches to discuss expedition plans, they hadn’t seen each other outside of work. Still, Leonard occasionally longed for the quiet evenings at Chris’s home and his lively conversation at the dinner table, and of course, the amazing sex. He missed the sex -- more than he’d care to admit -- and was beginning to wonder if Chris had grown tired of their infrequent trysts, since he hadn’t sought Leonard out. And now he found that Jim’s face frequently replaced Chris’s when he took himself in hand in the shower...

A shouted, “James Tiberius Kirk!” startled Len out of his musings. He turned from the case he’d been standing in front of and blinked. He sought out Jim, who had a dumbstruck look on his face and was frozen in place. An attractive middle-aged woman stalked towards him. She was almost a head shorter than Jim, her long, blonde hair kept from her face by a wide, colorful scarf, her khaki pants swishing delicately as she walked. The navy blue of her sleeveless, belted linen jacket gave the impression of a military commander and her straight spine and upswept chin did nothing to argue against the image. She wore no makeup, needed none, her face was lightly lined, but she was still beautiful, elegant, and intimidating. When she turned a hard, blue laser beam gaze on Jim, Leonard swallowed, glad that he was not the object of her attention.

“M-mother!” Jim stammered and Len had to hide his smile. The cocky, arrogant Jim Kirk looked so much younger, just like a guilty kid, caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “Wha-what are you doing here?” he squeaked.

Leonard leaned back and stayed silent as he watched Winona confront Jim. “I live here! What are _you_ doing here? You show up in my backyard and I have no word that you’re coming?” Winona looked at Jim and grabbed him by the biceps, turning him as she swept a measuring gaze over him. It was in that instant that Len could see exactly where Jim had gotten his heart stopping eyes -- Winona.

Suddenly, Jim was wrapped in a tight embrace and he folded into it, stooping a little and ducking his head to rest on her shoulder. “Jimmy, I’ve missed you. You should have called.”

The embrace lingered and Leonard watched the lines soften on Winona’s face when Jim hugged her back. “Mom... “

“You can make it up to me by buying dinner. But for now, introduce me to your colleagues.” Winona pulled away and Len was not fooled in the least by her serene expression. He recognized a little of Eleanor McCoy in Winona Kirk, knew she was unhappy with her son, but still, she smiled at Christine and hugged Sulu as though he were her own son before turning her searing gaze to Len.

“And you must be Leonard McCoy.” Winona held out her hand and Leonard took it, could do no less.

“Yes, ma’am, I am. And can I say it is a pleasure to meet you.”

“You can say it, Leonard, but your quaking knees say something different.” She smiled at Leonard and he relaxed somewhat. He was still a bit uncomfortable with her scrutiny, and was certain Winona was sizing him up, seeing if he met her standards. But then she gave him a disarming smile and a too-knowing gaze that kept him off-balance as he tried to figure out why it suddenly mattered that he measured up.

Chris had hung back, waiting, before speaking up. “Winona,” he called out as he moved to her side. Winona turned and Chris stopped short, his eyes catching on Winona’s smile. Without waiting, he stepped up, his hand outstretched, his smile soft and genuine, not at all the polite one he used for patrons. “Winona. I’m so glad you could come.”

Winona reached out and took Chris’s hand, covering it with her other as their touch lingered and their eyes met. Chris smiled conspiratorially and Winona’s lips lifted to match.

“Chris. Thank you for informing me.” She shot a look over her shoulder and Jim’s eyes widened comically, his lips moving, but no words issuing from them. “My son obviously had no intention of letting me know about all this.”

“A state I’m most pleased to have changed. Will you be available for dinner? I would like to continue our discussion on your venture. I’m intrigued at the idea of these mini-loans, the way they’re tailored to empower women to work together to benefit their communities.”

Winona took Chris’s hand and placed it over her arm and they proceeded to walk away, but not before she turned back to Jim and said, “Jim’s taking me to my favorite restaurant tonight, but I see no reason we cannot talk now.”

Jim ran a hand through his hair as he came to stand beside Leonard, his expression puzzled while Jim’s was stunned. “Fuck, Bones. This is not good.”

Leonard cocked his head at Jim. “Why? What’s wrong with spending time with your mother? And why didn’t you let her know you were coming?” Leonard was determined to be better about asking questions, about making an effort to get to know Jim Kirk, instead of stewing in a pit of frustrated desire and annoyance from a distance.

Jim looked at Leonard and shrugged. “We’ve had our... differences. She wasn’t happy when I chose to stay in the states for university and really didn’t care for my chosen career. I think she still feels like I let Dad down, that I belong in the diplomatic corps or should have devoted my life to some grand non-profit, ‘save the world’ shit.” Jim took a deep breath and shook off the grim mood, his smile blinding, but Leonard could see the darkness behind it. “Never mind. I’ll listen to her rant for a couple of hours and get some great food for my pains.”

Jim clapped Leonard on the shoulder and walked away. “Well, we best get a move on, if we don’t want everything in a jumbled mess.”

Leonard just stood there a few minutes, the whole reveal sitting heavily on his shoulders. The past few days showed that he really did not know Jim Kirk at all. That thought was strangely unsettling, far more disturbing than the idea that he found the younger man all too tempting. He could deal with the physical desire, but this... this felt like something more, the attraction had slid under his skin, wormed its way into places he had hoped to keep closed off. Leonard sighed. He shook his head, his emotions jangling and disjointed as he followed Kirk.

~~*~~

Leonard set the book aside, rubbing his eyes as he looked out the window. It was still early. Jim and Sulu weren’t likely to be back for hours. He was at loose ends and couldn’t concentrate on the words on the page, his legs and mind restless. The wait was both blessing and curse, making his blood race in anticipation of all they could find; the thrill of discovery, the challenge of a completely virgin, unexplored site being brought to life – time travel in its own way – was heady and all consuming. But the downtime also gave him time to fret, to second guess himself and to fear that history would repeat itself and he would be more broken than the last time.

Finally, unable to stand the silent room and the cacophony in his head, Leonard stood and stretched. He needed something physical, possibly a swim or a run in the gym, followed by a soak in the jacuzzi. That would calm his mind.

As he changed into shorts and a tee, his mind proved remarkably resilient at driving him crazy, switching from thoughts of the current and past expeditions to dwell upon Jim – frustrating, exasperating, brilliant, and far too gorgeous, Jim Kirk. Damned man was too attractive by halves and Leonard felt like his skin itched constantly from fighting that attraction. Leonard barked out a harsh laugh. He needed to cut those thoughts off. Jim was a colleague and no matter how desirable he found him, Leonard was involved with Chris and Leonard McCoy did not play the field.

Of course, the minute he thought of Chris, his body responded. It had been far too long since they’d been together. Both of them were consumed by the expedition and they’d barely spoken two words to each other in the past weeks. They’d never abstained that long in the years they’d been seeing each other and Leonard paused, his hand on the door. Normally, neither of them could wait to get their hands on each other, but this… this had been seemingly easy for both of them. Was Chris tired of him? For that matter was Leonard tired of Chris? Did he want something more? His stomach plummeted. He had avoided the barest hint of a relationship after Jocelyn, so where had _that_ idea come from?

Leonard left his hotel room and headed for the elevator, his thoughts in chaos. As he neared the end of the corridor, he noticed that Chris's door was propped open. He immediately wanted to talk, missed their easy camaraderie, the way Chris could so succinctly sum up a problem and have a ready solution in mind almost before Leonard stopped speaking. And if he was honest with himself, Leonard was horny. _That_ he blamed on Jim. He decided that a shared strenuous activity sounded like a better idea than a solitary swim. Chris could shag him through the mattress and that would burn off any lingering unease and unresolved frustration.

Leonard tapped on the door and pushed it open when he heard Chris's low, “No need to knock, baby.” His brow creased in confusion, wondering first how Chris knew it was him and secondly, why he had called him ‘baby’. Chris said a lot of things when they were in bed, and out, but Leonard couldn’t recall Chris ever calling him ‘baby’. He shrugged it off when he stepped into Chris's room and he turned around. Leonard froze, his throat dry. Chris was barefoot and wearing tight black jeans, the top button undone, his hair tousled and his casual black oxford completely open, the tails fluttering as he turned.

“Len!” Chris said, his surprise causing Leonard to pause and glance around the room, nothing seemed particularly out of place, the bathroom and closet doors were open. The place seemed free of other ‘guests’ so Leonard stepped forward, let his gaze sweep over Chris's chest, linger on pert nipples nestled in sparse graying hair, before meeting Chris's eyes. They were wide, the blue-gray almost swallowed by his pupils. He looked so fuckable, Leonard wanted to grab him and throw him to the bed, but instead he asked, “Got started without me?”

Chris blinked and licked his lips, eyes darting over Leonard’s shoulder.

Leonard surged forward, tugging Chris's bare chest to his. "Expecting someone... _baby?_ " His voice was low, determined, husky, the accent purposefully thick.

Chris swallowed and shook his head. Leonard seized the opportunity, wrapped one hand around Chris's neck while the other slid down warm skin to rest on Chris's hip where he thumbed at the waistband. He kissed Chris hungrily, eagerly, knew exactly what he wanted and took it.

Chris responded, opened up and kissed him back, all tongues and teeth, hard muscle and strong arms grasping greedily, giving Leonard everything he needed.

Leonard missed the quiet swish on carpet as the door was pushed open, but neither he nor Chris could miss the crash as an ice bucket dropped to the floor, its ice and lid tumbling onto the carpet. Chris leapt back from Leonard as though burned. “What the hell?!” Leonard growled before turning.

He was met with the vision of Winona Kirk standing in the open doorway, her feet and shoulders bare, hair disheveled, and vivid blue eyes wide.

“Oh, fuck!” Chris groaned.

Leonard blinked as time slowed and stretched, his eyes darting between the two as the pieces fell into place. He was rooted to the spot, numb with anger and growing embarrassment, but Winona Kirk was not still or silent. “I can _not_ believe this. Or you!” she hissed at Chris as she shook her head and shoved past him to gather her things.

“Winona, please,” Chris pleaded.

“Don’t talk to me right now,” Winona growled as she slipped on her jacket and shoes and snatched up her purse. In seconds she was at the door.

Chris reached for her arm, held her wrist. “I can explain,” he offered and Leonard recognized desperation in his voice.

Winona turned and looked at him, her eyes laser bright, her mouth drawn tight. She was fearsome when angered and a brief twinge of pity for Jim flashed through Leonard. “I’m sure you can, but it’s not _me_ you owe that explanation to.” Her eyes focused on Leonard then. They softened and her whole bearing slumped. “I’m sorry, Leonard. Please forgive me. I-I had no idea. I thought…” She paused, her eyes widening. “Oh… _Oh._ ”

Leonard thought he heard her exhale a soft, “Jimmy,” but couldn’t be certain over the roaring in his ears.

She tugged her wrist out of Chris's hand as she opened the door.

“Win… Winnie!”

“Just… Dammit, Chris.” Winona glanced back at Leonard one last time before she shut the door behind her.

Chris turned around and slumped against the door. “Fuck.”

Leonard finally found his voice, though he was still rooted to the spot, his limbs numb from the shock. “What the hell was going on here, Chris?”

“You want a drink, Len? I think we could both use one.” Chris seemed altogether too calm and that angered Leonard even as he stood blinking and watched as Chris poured bourbon into two glasses.

“Fuck no! I don’t want a drink! I want to know what the hell I just stumbled into!”

Chris shrugged and pressed a glass into his hand before he downed his own drink. “Kissing? Hopefully more? What the hell do you want me to say, Len? You have two eyes. You’re a smart guy. I think you know exactly what was going on.”

“But… ” Leonard stopped, tossed back his drink, held it out to Chris who topped them both up. Leonard swallowed that one and held his glass out again. All of his muscles twitched, caught between wanting to punch Chris and cling to him. This feeling was far too familiar and it burned, but he was a grown man, not a jilted teen-aged girl.

He took a deep breath. “I don’t need you to paint a picture, Chris. What I want to know is why?”

“We’ve never said we were exclusive, Len. I thought you were okay with that?” Chris's eyes were intense, but Leonard couldn’t look away. “In fact, you were more than okay with that, if I recall. You _insisted_ that there be no strings.” His voice was soft, his baritone silky, but cool.

“I realize that!” Leonard snapped. He turned away, swallowed the rest of the bourbon and took a few deep, slow breaths. He couldn’t believe this.

Chris walked up to Leonard, wrapped his hands around Leonard’s biceps and pulled him flush against Chris's chest. Warm breath huffed softly against Leonard’s neck and he forced himself to pull away, the position too intimate. And he was too vulnerable.

Turning, he looked at Chris expectantly.

“What do you want from me, Len? This arrangement between us has been good, _really_ good, but we never talked about it being anything more than an occasional weekend. I was certain you didn’t want more and I was fine with that.”

Chris moved closer again, didn’t let Leonard back away as he slid a warm hand around Leonard’s neck, pressed their foreheads together, but Leonard wouldn’t look up, couldn’t meet Chris's eyes.

“Let’s just get a few things straight. First, and foremost, you’re my friend. A damned good friend and I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

When he didn’t look up, Chris huffed out a frustrated noise. “Len.”

Leonard knew he could be a stubborn bastard but he was still stuck on the idea that he’d made something out of nothing and he wasn’t ready to look Chris in the eye and admit it.

Chris was equally stubborn, if not more, and he shifted a hand from Leonard’s bicep and tilted Leonard’s chin up. “Len,” he implored, that velvet baritone caressing the single syllable as he drew it out. “Len, look at me.”

Leonard blinked and raised his eyes. “I’m going to be honest with you,” Chris continued. “I consider you a friend and one of the best curators in the business. Those things come first, always have, always will. The fucking, the _heat_ between us is a nice side benefit, but if it’s keeping you from opening your eyes to what’s out there, what’s literally in front of your face, then it’s gone on too long. You’re a gorgeous man, Len, and it’s past time for you to put your heart out there again.”

“What the fuck, Chris?” Leonard shook his head and tore out of Chris’s grasp. “We couldn’t have had this talk _before_ I caught you with Winona?”

“Apparently not.” Chris shrugged, his eyes were concerned, but his body was relaxed and he was completely unrepentant. “We never _needed_ a talk Len. You made it quite clear from the first that you didn’t want anything but casual and I agreed. So why the fuss?”

The worst thing about it was that Leonard _had_ known; in his heart of hearts he had known that Chris and he were nothing but fuck buddies, friends with benefits, whatever you wanted to call it. Leonard didn’t do casual ordinarily, and had really enjoyed the sex, but more importantly, he’d enjoyed having someone who was _safe,_ someone without consequences, someone that he didn’t have to worry about losing.

“Goddammit, Chris!” Leonard sagged. He really didn’t like all the self-exploration he was being forced into. He was a man that liked his routine, and now everything was topsy-turvy. The world was spinning too fast and he was dizzy from it, just wanted to get off the madly rotating sphere for a bit. He rested his cheek against the window and stared, unseeing, at the overcast sky.

“Look, Len, this won’t change your work or your position. None of that was ever what this was about,” Chris soothed before reaching for Leonard. “C’mere. All things happen for a reason, Len. You’ll see.”

Leonard pulled away, anger and bourbon burning in his gut. He clenched his jaw and shook his head. He had no words for what he was feeling, couldn’t put a name to the myriad of emotions, most of them his own damn fault, so he merely shook his head again and walked away, ignoring Chris's blurted out, “Len!” as he closed the door behind him.


	3. CHAPTER 3

Stepping off of the small plane onto the tarmac at the Medan airport, the wave of humidity slammed into Leonard’s body, covering him like a heavy, slimy blanket. Sumatra didn’t have a monsoon season like southeastern Asia did, but the rain was constant, ubiquitous and heavy. And its red-headed sister, humidity, combined with the heat, made Leonard feel languid and out of sorts. He shouldered his backpack and held more securely the leather satchel holding his precious and prized field tools. Everything else would just have to wait. He turned and waited for Christine, Pavel, Hikaru, Spock and Jim to de-plane as well.

The expedition had gotten off to a splendid and smooth start, at least from the professional side of it. The permits were in order; the cultural ministries in Bali and North Sumatra were on-board, had given their official permissions, and provided a small security detail for them. Dr. Spock had been a last minute addition to the party when Chris decided to stay in Jakarta with Jim’s mother.

Leonard was still burning from that development. Winona Kirk was a beautiful, intelligent, creative woman whose heart belonged to the people she served. She would do anything-- Leonard would bet his last dollar--to help them, including stealing his, well, his _not_ -boyfriend, but still. . . . It stung to learn Chris had made plans to see Winona, possibly even be with her, before he’d said anything to Leonard about it. The dinner they’d all attended last night left him feeling distinctly awkward.

“You all right with this?” Jim had whispered across the table when Chris and Winona had gotten up to dance.

Leonard had shrugged. “I guess I’ll have to be, won’t I?”

“Hey, I can kill him for you,” Jim had replied with a serious look. “I know a bunch of guys here who would do it for the price of a good meal, and totally make it look like an accident.”

He’d said it with such conviction Leonard had few doubts that Jim really could arrange for something like that to happen. “Not a fan of men going after your mother?” he’d asked instead.

“Well, seeing as the man in question is our boss, and benefactor, and the sole reason for us being here and being able to stay in nice hotels instead of in a pitched tent out behind the Museum Nasional and eating great food instead of beans out of a can, I have to confess I’m a tad conflicted.” It was then that Jim had flashed him a wide, bright smile.

Leonard had laughed at that. “I agree. Perhaps we should pass on the murder idea.”

Jim had tapped the table with his finger, looking steadily at Leonard. “Still, I’m sorry your relationship ended the way it did. That wasn’t cool.”

Leonard had sighed. “We had no agreement between us. He’s a free agent and so am I. But--”

“But it would’ve been classy to at least let you know someone else was on the horizon before you caught them in a hotel room together,” Jim had finished.

Leonard hadn’t replied to that because, yeah, it would’ve been nice to have a heads-up. But then it hit him. “What about your mother? You really want a man who would dupe his, well, not his _boyfriend_ exactly, but somebody close to him, to pursue her?”

“My mother can take care of herself, believe me. But I hate to see anyone, especially a friend, get treated like yesterday’s newspaper.” Jim’s eyes seemed, if possible, even bluer.

“I’m not a pup kicked to the curb,” Leonard had growled. “I’m a grown man, and I understood the risks.”

Jim had shrugged. “Not saying you didn’t. It just doesn’t sit well with me. It’s a matter of _respect_ , Bones.”

The conversation had ended at that point. Leonard had stared at Jim for a long time after, watching him interact with every single person around their table, joking with the waiter, talking to the elderly couple seated nearby. Everyone was treated with that respect Jim had spoken of: the incline of his head, the formality of his speech to the elderly couple, the touches to the forearm or shoulder--each person was gifted with Jim’s undivided attention. It was then that something broke open in Leonard’s chest. He himself had received the greatest gift of all: a second chance at friendship.

And for once, Leonard McCoy had resolved he wasn’t going to squander it.

“Bones, you ready to roll?” Jim asked, slapping him on the shoulder. “Bones?”

Leonard shook himself from the memory. “Yeah. Yeah, let’s go.”

Jim gave him a broad smile, then bounded over to help Sulu with his large equipment case. “Jesus, Sulu! Did’ya bring everything from the lab?”

“Dr. McCoy, this way,” Spock said, holding his hand out. As they walked towards the customs office, Spock moved closer to him. “I am. . . grateful to you for allowing me to accompany you on your expedition. As a fellow senior curator, I know neither one of us has the time to get out into the field much. I find the opportunity to, if I may borrow a phrase from Dr. Kirk, ‘get my hands dirty’ exhilarating.”

Leonard smiled at the thought of the fastidious Spock with dirt under his fingernails. “We are honored by your presence. I envy your being able to rearrange your schedule as quickly as you did. It would’ve taken me weeks to get this kind of time off.”

“My staff can function admirably without my being present every day. My assistant curator has my full confidence. Perhaps Mr. Pike should hire more personnel to run his museum,” Spock said, effortlessly lifting his large satchel onto the customs counter. “An archaeologist of your reputation should be able to enter the field at a moment’s notice, if only to direct operations.”

Leonard handed the customs official his passport and ministry permits. “Things work a little differently at the Pike. Chris is very generous about funding the museum and spares no expense, but he likes to keep the staff at a manageable size. We all wear several hats. Keeps us on our toes.”

Spock looked thoughtful. “Please explain how many hats aid you in standing on your toes? And why do you wish to stand on your toes?”

Leonard had to fight from rolling his eyes. “It’s just an expression, Spock. It means we all do many jobs and it keeps me from doing just one thing day in and day out. I like the challenge of performing different jobs.”

Spock looked at him quizzically. “You do tasks other than being the curator?”

“Sure. I give tours, teach in our educational program, help with cleaning exhibit cases. I can even make the coffee.” Leonard turned his attention to the customs official who handed his passport and papers back. He looked around for Jim and the rest of the team. “Hey!” he called to them, “get a move on!”

Christine waved at him. “Jim’s got the guys helping unload the rest of our gear.”

Leonard turned to Spock. “See? It kind of goes with employment at the Pike. We all just get up and do what needs to be done.”

“Fascinating.”

Jim walked towards them in mincing steps, loaded down with duffel bags. “God, Bones, I think Sulu and Pavel brought the entire lab with them. I didn’t think we had this much stuff when we flew out of San Francisco!” His face was red and streaming with sweat.

“Here, give me a couple of those,” Leonard said, dropping his own bag.

“No, no. I got ‘em, I’m just registering a general complaint,” Jim said, the humor evident in his voice. “We didn’t need to bring _everything_.” Sulu and Pavel walked past him, carrying several heavy bags and cases apiece.

“Hey, you said, and I quote, ‘Don’t leave anything behind, Sulu.’ So I didn’t,” Hikaru said. He was sweating, too.

“Wait, Pavel,” Leonard said. “Let me take one.”

“Thank you, Dr. McCoy,” Pavel said gratefully, sliding a large bag off his slender shoulder.

“Okay, guys, let’s get through customs so we can get on the road. Time’s wasting here while we chatter at the damn airport.” Leonard strode off purposefully towards the office, again.

Once cleared by customs, in record time thanks to Spock’s intervention with the head of the customs office, the expedition team, including their three security officers, headed towards the main terminal and then out to their transportation.

As they walked up to the man holding a “Pike Museum” sign, Spock made an exclamation. “Excuse me,” Spock said loudly, over the din in the pick-up area to the man, “but this is not the conveyance I ordered.”

The driver shrugged and replied that this was the vehicle he was to use. It was a beat-up large, twelve-passenger van with “Provincial Museum of North Sumatra” painted on the side in English and Indonesian.

Spock did not look pleased, even though his usually calm countenance had not changed. “Spock, it’s all right,” Leonard said. “As long as it’s big enough to hold us and our gear, we’ll be fine. It’s got wheels and it looks like it runs.”

“Still, I am not used to having my orders ignored.”

The driver then got Spock’s attention. “ _The truck with the gear is going to meet us at the museum_ ,” he said in Batak.

“Excellent,” Spock replied stiffly. “I shall take this up with the director when we arrive.”

Leonard had to smile at Spock’s consternation. While the van had seen better days, it wasn’t the worst thing he’d ever travelled in. “Okay, everyone, let’s load it up.”

Now that he was _finally_ back in Sumatra, _finally_ back in the field, Leonard couldn’t help but indulge his growing excitement by allowing a smile to light his face. After putting his bags and cases into the back of the van, he walked around to the side, looked up into the overcast sky, and then closed his eyes.

“I think this is the first time I’ve seen you smile since we left home,” Christine said, coming up beside him.

“I’m just really looking forward to doing some work here again,” he said.

“I know.” She patted his arm. “So is Jim. Giddy as a schoolboy.”

Leonard looked over at the younger man, laughing as he helped the driver and security officers load their bags into the back of the van. “Can we tie him to the bumper and make him run alongside?”

Ten minutes later, the loaded van was making its way through the heavy noonday traffic of Medan. Wedged in between Christine and Jim, Leonard had to close his eyes to avoid the wave of nausea. He usually sat up front if he wasn’t driving because he developed a bad case of car sickness otherwise. Most times he remembered to take an anti-nausea pill, but God knew where those were packed at this point. Pavel was seated on top of the bags in the back, being the smallest and lightest of their crew. At least he hadn’t had to endure that.

Jim was chattering with Hikaru and Chahaya, one of the security men, who were sitting in front of them, switching back and forth from English to one of the regional dialects of Indonesia. Jim, Leonard decided, had a nice voice. And his Batak was flawless, beautiful even. He allowed the words to wash over him.

Two nights ago, Jim and Hikaru had excitedly gathered everyone together in the hotel bar. Back from their flyover of the site at Lake Toba, Hikaru was busy uploading photos onto Chris’s laptop while Pavel connected it to one of the high-definition televisions in the bar.

“It was so _awesome_ ,” Jim had exclaimed as he tried to flatten the folds in the map. “The place we’re going is nearly pristine. We saw the village that’s at the foot of the mountain. There aren’t any roads up to the site, but we spotted some trails, so someone’s been going up there. The forest is still pretty dense in places, which is great. That means no one’s been in there cutting trees down and messing around; couple of clear spots, but they look like they’re natural or really old cuts. And oh, man! There is no _doubt_ in my mind that something was there before. Absolutely no doubt.”

While Pavel had fiddled with the connection to the television, Leonard ordered drinks for everyone. “Jim, what’cha want?”

“Oh, just a Coke or something,” he had replied, looking at the photos as Hikaru scrolled through them.

“Nothing stronger? Might help bring you down a little,” Leonard had said with a grin.

Jim had laughed. “I am kinda excited, aren’t I?” He came to stand next to Leonard at the bar, their shoulders touching. Jim obviously didn’t have a good grasp of the personal space concept; he was always crowding next to people, especially Leonard. “I don’t wanna come down. This is so fabulous, Bones. Wish you would’ve come with us.”

“I hate airplanes as a general rule. My hate for them grows exponentially the smaller they become,” Leonard had admitted. “I would’ve been a basket case in the Cessna. Besides, I was more than happy to give up my spot to Spock.”

Leonard and Jim had brought the drinks back for everyone at the large table, and passed them around. Taking a sip of the bourbon--it wasn’t his usual but it was good enough--Leonard had stood back and watched Jim joking with Pavel. The obvious good looks aside, Jim had such presence, such an air of life about him. He was practically vibrating with excitement over what they had found.

“Here we go!” cried Pavel, as the screen lit up with a video that they had shot from the plane.

The image swooped as Hikaru brought the plane in closer to the lake. Leonard had felt his stomach lurch at that, and he closed his eyes as he inhaled sharply. “You okay, Len?” Christine had asked softly at his arm.

“Yeah, I’ll be all right. I hate those kind of shots, goddammit.” He took another deep breath.

“Well, don’t watch.”

“Right.” And he had opened his eyes.

The shot moved towards the shoreline high above the lake, moved inland and upwards, and then panned over the proposed site. “Oh, look,” Leonard had breathed. “Oh my God, it’s _perfect_!”

“What? Bones, what did you say?” Jim had asked.

Leonard had moved towards the television screen. “Look! Here and here.” He had pointed at points in the landscape. “These points don’t match the contours of the land, and it’s ever so much clearer than in the satellite images the DoD provided.”

Jim had come to stand beside him. “And look here. Here’s another building site to the southeast.” He had hugged Leonard from behind. “Isn’t it awesome?”

The video had ended, and Hikaru pulled up the first of the images. “Aren’t these fantastic?” Jim had said, delighted. “There’s no doubt at all.”

Jim had continued to hold onto Leonard, hugging him tighter as each image flashed on the television above them. Leonard had closed his eyes, willing the sparks of attraction away. He knew he shouldn’t feel this way, but Jim's arms around him felt so right he didn't have the strength to shrug them off.

The photos Jim and Spock had taken clearly outlined a large human-worked site, though there were some difficulties. Nothing that couldn’t be overcome, but it would take time to just _get_ to the site. And then there was the apparent site itself: it was set back quite a distance from the lip of a high cliff by the lake. But the site was steeper than they had first thought, and much further up the mountain. It was one thing to see it on the maps, but the Geological Survey maps they were using were old; the DoD satellite images were of middling quality and did not show the incline well. It was only until they had seen it up close with the fly-over that they were able to tell what they were going to be up against.

Sulu and Pavel had made some measurements, figuring part of the site was quite steep. They were plotting out possible campsites, which, thankfully, looked like they were going to be nearby.

Leonard had continued to hang back, allowing his staff to take the lead on the details. He stepped in and added some comments about how they were going to set up the excavation, drawing plot outlines on the map. Jim leaned over his shoulder and added his own.

“And look here,” Jim had said, pointing at the map, and then directing them all to the image on the screen. “This is a lot lower. God, I wonder if that’s a part of it?”

Leonard had taken a closer look at the screen, pulling out his glasses and sliding them on. “It might be. My God, how was this site overlooked?”

“It is not unusual for the forest canopy to change, as this did, evidently,” Spock had said at that moment. “That, and its location simply meant it had not yet come up for re-study. The northern part of the island suffered immense damage in the tsunami five years ago. Resources, including those of the cultural ministry, have been devoted to Banda Aceh and environs.”

That sobered them. Though the mountains around Lake Toba were unaffected, this mostly poor nation had experienced unprecedented and devastating loss. “That is true,” Christine had said softly.

“And the Sunda Fault has been particularly active of late,” Spock had added. “It is not surprising that there may have been some changes even as high up as Lake Toba.”

Leonard had nodded. “People, this is our site.”

And now, they were within a few days of arriving at that site. The lurch of the van as it pulled up and stopped at the back of the Provincial Museum brought Leonard back to reality. Spock hopped out of the van immediately and entered the museum’s back door.

“Whoa, Spock isn’t happy, is he?” Jim said in Leonard’s ear.

“Oh, uh, no, he’s not,” Leonard said hoarsely, then coughed.

“Were you asleep?” Jim asked, humor evident in his voice.

“Oh...just...shut up,” Leonard said, embarrassed. He slid off the bench seat and out the door.

“I didn’t sleep well last night either,” Jim admitted as he exited. “But just think, in a couple of days we’ll be up at the site and starting to dig.”

“Well, Jim, you know it’s going to take a little longer than that.” He went around to the back of the van, opened it, and began taking the bags out.

“I know,” Jim said, “but I can hope, can’t I?” Jim picked the bags and took them over to the large, four-wheel-drive pickup with their camping gear in it.

And that was the difference, wasn’t it? Jim had this optimistic view of life. He seemed to never let anything get him down, never took no for an answer, didn’t believe that it couldn’t get done.

An hour later, the Pike Museum team was getting ready to board a much nicer bus for the trip to the small village at the base of the mountain that would be their entry to their expedition.

“ _Wait!_ ” Jim shouted in Batak, raising his hand. “ _Before we go, I must ask you this: where is the best place in Medan to get beef rendang?_ ”

The driver and two of the security officials all started talking, then arguing. Jim followed the discussion in amusement. “What’s that?” Pavel asked Leonard as the four sorted out their opinions.

“It’s a traditional dish of the Minangkabu people in West Sumatra. That’s one of the places where Jim apparently grew up,” Leonard replied. “I’ve had it at a restaurant in ‘Frisco.”

“Is it any good?”

“Yeah, it can be.”

Jim and the driver finally came to an agreement. “Well, looks like there’s a place on our way out of town,” Jim said. “By the time we get there it’ll be around lunchtime, so I’m gonna suggest we stop there. It’s been _ages_ since I’ve had a bowl of good beef rendang.”

“Dr. McCoy says he has had it back home,” Pavel piped up.

“Yeah, I’ve eaten at that place, too,” Jim said, nodding at Leonard, “and it’s fine, but this is the real deal. And I gotta have some.”

Christine’s stomach chose that moment to gurgle in agreement. “Oh, my,” she exclaimed, “I’m in complete agreement with Jim. Or, at least my stomach is.”

They all laughed and climbed aboard the bus.

~~*~~

 _One month later..._

Leonard stopped and took a deep breath, swiped at the clinging sweat and caking dust, the combination turning into rivulets of mud, further darkening his sun-kissed skin. He leaned on the heavy-duty shovel, took a welcome swallow of passably cool water and glanced at the steadily darkening sky through the forest canopy, before turning his eyes to survey the site.

They were in the mountains, along the edge of the densest parts of the forest. The depression they’d started excavating had to be man-made; it was too even; he could almost see the steps in the steeply sloping land. And the trees were further apart, less clogged with undergrowth; it was almost as though the jungle had been unwilling to reclaim the area. This gave the work site more cooling breezes and longer days to work in, allowed them more room and freed them from many of the worst pests. But it came at a cost: less shelter from frequent and violent thunderstorms. Still, they’d been lucky so far and had dodged the bullet. The weather had been reasonably calm, unseasonably so, and he wondered when their luck would break, when they’d not be able to keep working through a constant light drizzle, when they might have to evacuate.

Spock had procured them lodgings in the nearest village in case of a major storm, but even that shelter was an hour away in the beat-up, ancient Land Rover over a barely passable, rough hewn, winding trail. Leonard hoped they wouldn’t need to resort to it. Leaving the site, even during a storm, left it exposed and vulnerable, far too accessible to potential robbers that would gladly take whatever they found, including their gear, and sell it.

Leonard caught sight of Christine coming out of the “mess” tent, made of ancient canvas, that also doubled as a processing center for working on artifacts--and he smiled. The woman was a whiz at organization. Leonard had been on larger digs, but none had run as smoothly as this and most of the credit for that sat squarely on Christine Chapel’s formidable shoulders. She had studied the topographic maps and had a plan for the campsite before they’d even arrived. It gave Leonard no small sense of satisfaction that Christine still managed to surprise Jim into a stunned silence. Anything that shut Jim Kirk up was a bonus in Leonard’s eyes, because the constant hum of attraction he felt for him was something of a thorn in Leonard’s side, an irritation that he couldn’t scratch or get rid of.

And the moment Jim Kirk popped up in Leonard’s thoughts, his eyes were pulled to Jim’s bare torso. He hastily turned away and gritted his teeth. He really needed to do something about this hyper-vigilance he’d somehow acquired. It was too selective to be useful, anyway, as he really didn’t give a rat’s ass when Jim took off his shirt. And he sure as hell didn’t care to watch the water droplets etch trails in Jim’s dust-covered chest; he did not need to know when Jim was stripping down to his boxers and he certainly was not interested in the fact that Jim’s eyes were a deep, violet blue in the moments before the sun burst over the spine of the mountains.

And, fuck him, but the most annoying thing was the way Jim Kirk, pale-skinned blond that he was, had become an even golden brown, managing to avoid being sun-burned even though he had been running around shirtless the entire time they’d been at the dig. And his well-sculpted chest with its rosy nipples was like a beacon, drawing Leonard’s eyes and distracting him at inconvenient times, like now, when he should be looking at the sky and trying to figure out how bad the coming storm was going to be instead of allowing his eyes to linger on the muscles of Jim’s back as they stretched and flexed with each movement of his biceps and firm abdomen as he worked the shovel.

Leonard bit his lip and turned his face skyward as the wind picked up. He inhaled deeply, could almost smell the rain on the air. “Bones!” Jim’s shout startled him and he turned to see Jim jogging up to him.

“I think this one’s going to be bad, Bones.” Jim waved at the site, the tent flaps were straining against their ties in the steadily increasing breeze and the tension, the expectation, was growing in the air.

Leonard nodded.

“We’ll have to batten everything down, see if we can ride it out here since Spock’s not back with that fabulous ride of his.” Jim grinned and Leonard chuckled. They’d used horses from time to time to ferry supplies from the village to the site; neither he nor Jim were too certain that the ancient, battered and rusty vehicle could make it in a bad downpour, and both _were_ certain that the bucket of bolts was slower than the horses.

“You get the team started on locking this place down and I’ll see if I can get Spock on the horn.”

Jim reached for Leonard, leaning close as he pointed at the edge of their site. “Bones, we might have a problem.”

Leonard looked to the heavy underbrush, the thick foliage and encroaching trees that shaded the main dig and then looked back at the other man, his head cocked in question.

“I’m no geologist, but I don’t think that’s a natural break in the ridge. I think it’s a runoff channel, possibly evidence of previous slides. _Mudslides_ , Bones.”

“Shit, Jim. That would completely inundate the site.”

Jim swallowed. “I know.”

Anger and frustration clawed at Leonard’s gut. They were close, he could feel it. And even if the site hadn’t yet yielded its greatest secrets, it would. He gritted his teeth and looked at Jim. “Then we’ll just have to make sure that we secure everything even tighter. We’re too close to lose it now.”

Jim nodded, his blue eyes electric with a matching determination in the growing twilight. “You got it, Bones.” He hurried off, whistling to get everyone’s attention before shouting orders in Batak and English.

Leonard darted over to the ‘command tent’, which was really nothing more than his tent that was crammed full of all the important gear, especially the satellite phone, the portable dating microscope and console, and the hand guns for the crew. This was the most sheltered tent, was the one that was tucked into the hillside, had been chosen for that reason; it became the storage locker, the refuge of choice for their critical goods and he had to make room for that gear even as he prayed that his instincts, and Jim’s, were wrong this time, that the storm would blow over once again.

The phone crackled to life in his hands, but the connection was worse than ever. He wasn’t even assured there was another person on the other end, was sure it wasn’t Spock. But he kept trying, turning in a slow, wide circle until the signal was as good as it was going to get, which meant his own words echoed back at him and the voice on the other end was garbled. He kept repeating the distress message as slowly and as clearly as he could: there was a storm coming and they needed transport... now. In the end he had either managed to convey their situation or the villagers would be expecting roast goat for dinner.

Huffing, he put the phone on standby, and set into motion, folding up his cot and dumping it on top of his trunk. At that same moment the wind whipped up, grabbed the flap of his tent and sent it fluttering loose. He swore and moved to it, re-tying it before looking around the site. The sky had grown darker, was a murky, swirling gray and the air was oppressive, heavy; even the brisk wind flowing down the mountain offered no relief.

Jim bounded over to Leonard and clapped him on the shoulder. “Break out the guns.”

“What the hell?”

Jim looked at him, frowned and then flattened a wide hand over his still bare abs, and Leonard refused to think of his own hand in its place, pressing against the ridges and planes there. “Don’t ask me to explain it, but I have a feeling _here_ and it’s never wrong, Bones. There’s going to be trouble and we need to be ready for it.”

Leonard shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest, barring Jim from the tent. “Jim. No. It’s a thunderstorm. Probably blow over before we even manage to get out of here.”

The whole camp suddenly went white and shook with a vicious crack of thunder. Leonard jumped and Jim’s eyes were luminous when Leonard met them. “It’s just thunder.”

“Yeah... for now. I can’t explain it, Bones, just trust me.”

Leonard pressed his hand to Jim’s sternum, blocking him from approaching the locked box. “I trust you, Jim, but this is not the time for firearms. It’s just a storm.”

When Jim looked like he was going to argue, Leonard continued speaking, his hand firm against Jim’s sweaty skin. “I’ll make it an order if I have to. Please don’t make me.”

The air crackled with tension between them and Leonard hoped, prayed that Jim wouldn’t push it. They didn’t have time for this and just when he was sure Jim was going to call him on it, Jim dropped his eyes, glanced at the hand on his chest and then grinned up at Leonard. “Just can’t keep your hands off me, can you?”

Leonard smiled and pushed Jim out into the rain that was just now starting to come down. “C’mon. I don’t have time for your shit.”

After checking on Christine -- he should have known she’d have the mess and her gear well in hand -- he moved to the main dig and began to wrestle the plastic sheeting into place. It bucked and flared in the wind, but they got it covered and then rolled some large stones over the edges after adding layers of canvas and two by fours. It wasn’t perfect, but it’d have to do.

All of the gear was safely stowed, everyone was wearing rain jackets, even Jim, as the rain started pelting down on them. The storm’s increasingly ferocious wind drove the rain near horizontal, it was hard to see in the near black day, and the rain was stinging their arms and faces. They finished reinforcing the tent stakes and ties and had everything battened down, so they raced for the mess tent, huddled in the entrance as they stripped off the rain gear. The tent was gloomy and close with only a couple of lanterns illuminating the dense air.

Leonard shifted his shoulders and looked at Christine. “Any tea? Or something?”

Christine grimaced. “The coffee left over from breakfast’ll have to do you. We could start the campstove in here, but I don’t think we’d want an open flame in case the tent came down on it.”

Leonard pulled a face. “You’re right. Guess the coffee will have to do.”

“Yeah, it will,” she said. “Depending on how bad things get, we can eat some of the MRE’s for lunch, and there’s plenty of water in the jugs.”

Sulu called out, “Christine, come join us, we need a fourth for gin rummy.”

Christine looked at Leonard. “It’ll pass the time. Unless you two want to join us? We could play poker.” Her eyes shifted between Jim and Leonard.

Jim raised his hands and shook his head. “Oh, no. Count me out. I lost my shirt last poker night with you. Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me.”

Christine laughed and cocked her head in invitation to Leonard. “Len?”

“I’ll pass, but thanks, anyway.”

Leonard joined Jim at another table and tried to ignore the creaking and groaning of the tent as it was battered by wind and rain. The air was getting thick and close and Leonard began to jiggle his right leg. He swore to himself and tried to blot out the heat and damp. He closed his eyes and swallowed, breathing shallowly in little gasps through his mouth as he tried to keep the rising bile down.

A warm hand touched his forearm and he started, eyes flying open with a gasp. Jim was there, his face so close he blotted out the others. “Bones? You okay?” he asked softly, warm puffs of breath caressing Leonard’s cheek.

When Leonard didn’t answer, couldn’t answer, the hand on his arm pressed down. “Bit of claustrophobia?”

Leonard nodded, his leg was shaking the table and the last thing he wanted was to call attention to his freak-out. He was the leader of the dig, he couldn’t lose it from being stuck in a tent during a thunderstorm. Leonard wildly glanced around the tent, made sure no one was watching them. The two diggers not engrossed in one of the card games were pacing at the entrance and having an animated discussion.

A hand pressed down on his thigh and began rubbing, pressing and massaging and that was distraction enough that the rapid tapping slowed and stopped. “Here... with me, Bones.”

Leonard turned to Jim, did as commanded. Their posture was casual, heads near as though they were having a quiet conversation instead of Jim directing Leonard’s breathing, calming him through a panic attack. He focused on those sparkling blue eyes, concentrated on breathing with Jim. It was suddenly easy to forget that they were stuck in a damp, humid, and hot tent, eight people confined and waiting while nature tried to wash them off the mountain.

Jim smiled; his hand never stopped moving and that pulled Leonard out of the pool of Jim’s eyes, made him aware that other bodily functions were waking. His heart rate had slowed, but Jim’s hand was warm and too near his crotch, so it began to speed up again. Leonard stopped Jim’s hand, pressed his own on top of it, kept it firmly in the middle of his thigh.

“Thanks, Jim.”

“I didn’t know you were claustrophobic, Bones.”

“‘M not. Just need a little air flow on my face.” He wasn’t going to tell Jim about where the anxiety came from, why close, dark quarters could set him off.

Time passed. They sat in silence as Leonard calmed, neither man removing their hand; the warm weight on his thigh helped Leonard, seeped comfort into his skin, pulled his thoughts from the past, and he almost smiled when Jim cocked his head at him.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Jim asked.

Leonard did chuckle at that and shook his head. Last thing he needed was to admit his thoughts, admit to just how much he’d grown to like and respect Jim Kirk, how intensely he was attracted to the man, with his good looks, manic personality and brilliant mind. Like the kid’s ego needed any boost.

With the storm raging over them, somehow Jim had created a cocoon of peace around him, and Leonard was no longer thinking about the thin fabric and tiny poles that held back nature’s full fury. The others passed around the small boxes of rations for lunch and cups of water. Leonard wasn’t very hungry; he forced himself to eat a few crackers. But when Sulu tossed everyone a star fruit from the box the villagers had sold them, Leonard gladly cut his open and enjoyed the sweet, juicy flesh.

The rain did not let up. For hours upon hours, the heavens poured everything it had on them; thunder and lightning came and went, but the rain was relentless. Late in the afternoon while Leonard was reading he felt Jim nudge his foot. He met Jim’s eyes and Jim tilted his head to the ground where he was shining a small flashlight. The ground was very quickly getting saturated and there were heavy rivulets running more closely to the raising wooden flooring. Fear gripped Leonard. The higher ground would leave them exposed to lightning strikes and lower ground held the very distinct possibility of washing them into the lake.

They were in an increasingly precarious situation and the rain wasn’t letting up. It was like they were paying for the last few weeks of relatively clear weather. Nature was getting her due.

Leonard nodded, swallowing. “Suggestions? We’re between a rock and hard place, Jim. And at this point, there’s no way anyone can get to us.”

“I think we’ll have to take the horse trail. It’s the most direct route to the village.”

“That path’s steep, dangerous in good conditions with sure-footed animals. It’d be near suicide in this.”

Jim looked down at the floor again. “Well, we may not have a choice, Bones.”

Leonard’s stomach dropped at that instant as a low ominous rumbling rolled through him, but it wasn’t from the sky and didn’t come with a lightning strike. He felt it through the soles of his Trekkers. With wide eyes, he met Jim’s startling blue and nodded.

“We need to pack up. Now!” he shouted to the tent. “The mountain’s likely to come down on us. Get your gear! We leave in five!”

Jim gave his leg one last squeeze and then burst into a whirlwind of motion, throwing on his rain gear and explaining the situation. Chekov froze, sitting and staring at the rain pelting down outside the tent. Sulu noticed and gently talked to him, gaining his attention, and finally getting him to stand and pull on the raingear. Leonard prayed that the kid’s first dig didn’t end like his last one had even as the rumbling under his feet continued, waxing and waning, but pulsing.

He pulled on his own gear and stood next to the entrance, catalogued the survival gear they had on hand, going over the list as he double-checked his backpack before shrugging it on.

Leonard heard a faint, unnatural noise and froze as a different type of light illuminated the tent. “Spock!”

He threw the tent flap open, uncaring of the rain and there was that beautiful, gorgeous heaven-sent vehicle, its lights barely visible through the deluge.

Spock jumped out of the vehicle and ran the last hundred yards, his dark hair plastered to his forehead as he shouted, “We must hurry, Doctor! The trail was barely passable on the way up!” He shouted to be heard over the storm.

“We’re ready, Spock! Thank you!” Spock turned and ran back into the Land Rover and Leonard turned to the tent and opened the flap shouting, “Move it! Our ride’s here!”

He stepped back, allowing Christine and Pavel out first. The ground was slippery and Pavel went down. Sulu snatched him up quickly, held tightly to his bicep as he bundled them toward and into the waiting vehicle. Two guards and the two diggers came next, carrying a trunk with what little they’d found. They opened the back and set it in, standing like drowned kittens as they waited for orders.

" _Just get in! There’s no time!_ " Leonard shouted in Batak.

He turned to see Jim and Chahaya leaving the tent. Jim’s ballcap was caught by a gust of wind and Chahaya instinctively went after it, chasing it across the open site.

Leonard shouted, “No!” and then time stopped. He watched everything happen in slow motion, powerless to stop or change it.

All noise, even the rain seemed to cease for an instant before the world exploded with a loud report. He shook his head to stop the ringing in his ears, but it wasn’t internal, the high pitched whine and low, rumbling growl was external as the mountain began to come down--mud, rocks, trees, slammed into their camp, taking the personal tents, overwhelming the small ravine and knocking Chahaya off his feet.

Jim leapt after him, reaching out with his hand as he, too, was swept off his feet and overtaken by the mudslide. “Jim!”

Leonard turned to the car, and saw Sulu and one of the other security personnel, Ramelan, come running up the hill towards him. “No!” he shouted at Sulu. “You have to return with Spock! We might need you in the pilot’s seat, Hikaru! And I need to you to take care of Christine and Pavel for me.” He pushed Sulu towards the car, and grabbed Ramelan’s outstretched hand.

“ _Come with me,_ ” Leonard shouted in Batak. “ _If we’re careful, we can follow without getting swept away_.”

“Dr. McCoy! I must protest! You are not a trained survivalist!” Spock shouted in his ear.

“Spock! That’s two of my people that got swept away! I’m not leaving without them. You get back to the village and get us help. Better equipment. Call Chris. He’ll arrange it.” The muddy river was still expanding, coming closer to the edge of the ravine, the trail, and the Land Rover. If Spock didn’t leave right this instant, he’d be caught up in the slide, too. He pointed at the trail and shouted, “Go!”

Then he took a deep breath and tightened the straps on his backpack, his heart thundering in his chest as he thought about Jim’s face as the mud took him. The surprise and then the determined set of his jaw gave Leonard hope that Jim would be alright, he _had_ to be.

Ramelan joined Leonard as the Land Rover backed away. They carefully and slowly picked their way along the ridge line, staying above the slide which was slowing, just as the lightning diminished and the rain let up somewhat; the full force of nature was seemingly spent, at least for the moment.

As they crested the rocky basalt ridge, Leonard gasped, almost tripped, only Ramelan’s grip on his backpack kept him from sliding down the mud slick slope straight down the mountain and into Lake Toba. Chahaya was clinging to a thin clump of grasses and reeds as a river of mud roared by.

Leonard almost called out, but thought better of it. The last thing the man needed was a distraction. He turned to Ramelan. “We need to get a rope to him and pull him out.”

Ramelan nodded, knelt down and began to rifle through his pack. While he did that, Leonard was looking around, eyes desperately searching for a glimpse of Jim, of anything.

A flash caught the corner of his eye and he turned upslope. There was Jim -- his shirt just a smidge of color in the dark mud. Leonard backtracked about a hundred feet, having no way forward that was not directly in the path of the mud, until he could see Jim’s position clearly. He was almost directly across from Leonard, holding onto a tree branch, his arms and one leg wrapped over it.

Leonard was torn. He needed to get to Jim, to make sure he was safe, but Chahaya was in a much more precarious situation. Jim was over the lower tier of the excavation, tangled in trees above the ridgeline. His decision made, he took a deep breath and, cupping his hands, shouted to Jim, “Hang on tight! We’ll be back for you soon!”

Ramelan handed Leonard his rope and Leonard make quick work of tying and knotting it around his waist, while the other man wrapped it around a boulder. Leonard squared his shoulders. He’d rappelled down enough cliff faces and this was no different. Before he took his first step down to Chahaya, another roar rumbled through the soles of his feet; the mountain was trying to shake them off as a last wave of mud came barreling down, pushing Chahaya down the steep embankment.

" _Chahaya!_ "

Leonard turned, in horror, his scream dying in his throat as he watched the tree branch break and Jim too disappear into the river of mud, the last thing he saw of Jim were his wide blue eyes.

" _JIM!_ "

But he didn’t go with the mud down the embankment like the hapless Chahaya did. Jim seemed to be _pulled under_ , like the earth had swallowed him up.

Ramelan said something to him. Leonard shook his head, and Ramelan said again, “ _He’s over there!_ ” And he was pointing.

Somehow, by some incredible feat of luck or miracle, Jim had survived not just the muddy river, but had managed to pull himself out of the main channel. The water and mud had slowed a little; a large tree trunk had turned sideways on the edge of the first excavation site and had stopped the worst of the debris coming down the hill. In the back of his mind, the archaeologist in Leonard observed that this would push the dig back weeks in progress, but all he could think about at this very second was that Jim was standing and waving, and then--

He disappeared. Again.

Leonard stared hard at the place where Jim had just been--comically covered in mud with only his eyes as a bit of color in the otherwise dark world--and then he just wasn’t there.

“ _Dr. Jim has fallen into a hole_!” Ramelan shouted. “ _We must get to him_!”

They carefully picked their way across the muddy channel; fortunately, the water had drained away fairly quickly, and the packed dirt underneath was holding. Ramelan slipped in a puddle and Leonard reached out to grab him. As he caught the larger man, he felt a sharp twinge in his back and grunted. “ _Dammit_ ,” he muttered. “ _You all right_?” he asked.

“ _Fine. You_?”

“ _I’ll be all right. Where did you see him_?”

“ _Over here! It looked like he dropped through the earth_!”

Leonard jumped over a pile of debris to get to more stable ground just under the trees. The rain was still coming down heavily. He wiped his face, though it made it only marginally better. He stopped to look at the place again, squinting against the rain and wind. “JIM!”

“ _Over here, sir_!” Ramelan called. “ _Come quickly_.”

Leonard leapt over a tree trunk and stumbled through the underbrush towards the man. He was standing on the edge of the lower site, the one they had only had time to block out, but not do any significant work on. But there was a hole in the side of the channel cut by the raging mud. And next to it was a larger hole. Ramelan was on his hands and knees and shouting into it. “JIM!” Leonard shouted into the hole. “JIM!”

“Bones.” Jim’s voice was weak and sounded far away, but he was alive.

“ _Lower me down there_.” Leonard raised up on his knees and untied the rope from around his waist. “ _Tie it to that tree over there_.”

Ramelan made his way over to a large tree and threw the rope around it. “Jim, we’re coming down. Tell me where you are!”

“Bones, it’s--it’s deep here.”

Leonard could hardly hear him. “I know. You sound far away, but I can hear you, all right? Are you right under the hole? Can you see light?”

Silence. “Jim? Can you see light? Jim?” Leonard shouted as he looked frantically in the hole.

“Yeah. Why isn’t there any rain coming in?”

“That’s great. The hole is under some trees and the slide has slacked off a little.” Leonard looked around. “I think the hole you went in is further over. Are you injured?”

“I-I think my arm is broken. Ow! And I’ve probably bruised the hell out of my back. I landed hard.”

Leonard’s heart skipped a beat or two at that admission. _Shit!_ “Okay, Jim, I’m going to come down, all right? But first, Ramelan and I need to see if we can find Chahaya."

“Oh my God. You don’t have him?”

“No, he got swept away. We need to go further down the mountain and see if he was able to catch himself on something.”

“Yeah, do that. I’m not going anywhere any time soon.”

Leonard nearly laughed at that. “You must not be in that much pain if you can joke.”

“Haha.”

Leonard and Ramelan took off further to the east, away from the mud flow. They covered the distance down the mountain, frantically searching the edge of the flow for trees, rocks, large branches—anything that Chahaya could’ve grabbed onto as the river took him, all the while shouting for the man. The further down the mountain they went, the steeper and more precarious it became. Leonard even had Ramelan tie a rope to a tree so that he could negotiate the steep drop into the lake. But it was all in vain; there was no sign of the man. Shocked and grieved, Leonard concluded Chahaya went over the edge.

They returned to the spot where Jim had fallen through the hole. Leonard mentally shook himself, setting aside his grief for Chahaya for the moment, and tried to figure out what the hell was going on, and what the hell exactly Jim had found, or rather, found Jim.

Ramelan tied the long rope to a nearby tree, and then gave Leonard a thumbs up. “JIM!” Leonard shouted. “You there?”

There was silence for a moment, and Leonard stopped breathing for a moment. “JIM?”

He heard a cough, and then a weak, “Bones?”

“Yeah, I’m here."

“Oh thank God. Ok, I’m coming down.”

“Yeah.”

Leonard shrugged out of his backpack and opened it, pulling out a pair of gloves and a headlight. " _I’ll check Jim out and let you know what the status is, all right_?" he said as he put them on and turned on the light; he pulled the backpack on again.

Ramelan nodded his head and tested the rope. “ _It will hold_ ,” he replied.

“Right.” Leonard took a deep breath and stepped into the hole.

There was nothing to put his foot on. Dangling, he nearly let go in surprise. _Fuck!_ The hole wasn’t any mere space in the earth--it was cavernous. And definitely man-made. He looked around, and the digital light revealed stone walls about ten feet away. He looked up and into Ramelan’s face, but also saw large wooden support beams and thick sod covering them. “Well, I’ll be godammned!” he exclaimed. “We got ourselves a cellar here.”

He slowly let himself down, allowing his hands to slip minutely as he wrapped his leg around the rope and stepped on it, to control his downward motion. Hand over hand, Leonard gave silent thanks for the training he’d been doing for the last year, building up his upper body strength, and the rock climbing he’d done with Chris. It hadn’t been his favorite form of fun, but Chris loved it and, he had to admit, it was certainly coming in handy now. He slowly let himself down a good twenty feet and then hit a hard-packed dirt floor.

“Oh. My. God!”

The cellar, if that’s what it truly was, was made of stone and wood. He saw the cellar going down off to his right another few levels; he heard rushing water and wondered if there was an underground stream that fed into the lake. If so, this was indeed the perfect place for a settlement or a temple or something, what with a ready supply of freshly running mountain water. He carefully looked around to gain his footing; it looked like the ground was fairly dry, and even though the walls were dripping, there was a fairly sophisticated drainage system that directed the water downhill.

“Jim?”

“Over here, Bones.”

Leonard found Jim quickly in the light and walked down to him. He was lying against a large rock near the far wall; fortunately, he had rolled when he fell. He was holding his left arm against his body with his right hand; the side of his face was starting to bruise and there was a cut over his right eye that was bleeding profusely.

Leonard dropped his backpack and opened it. He extracted a medical kit. “Christ, Jim, you’re lucky you didn’t die.”

“Yeah, thanks for that confidence booster,” Jim replied dryly.

“How are your legs? You think you twisted an ankle when you hit the ground?”

Jim carefully and slowly flexed one foot, then the other. “I think I’m all right.” He bent his knees. “Mmm...maybe my right knee is buggered up, but all in all, I think I’ll be able to walk. But this arm. Bones, I’m sure it’s broken.”

Leonard examined it closely without touching it. “You think you can stretch it out so I can see?”

Jim snorted at that. “I might, but then I’d probably kill you if you touched it. It fucking hurts.”

“I know it does, Jim, but I need to assess how badly it’s broken,” Leonard said patiently.

“It’s bad.”

“Don’t be an infant, just let me look at it.”

“Don’t touch--FUCK!” Jim yelped. “That HURTS, man!”

Leonard sat back on his heels. “I know it hurts, but if it’s badly broken it needs to be splinted so that it doesn’t get any worse.”

Jim was sweating profusely. His breath was growing more shallow and rapid and his pupils were dilated. “Crap, Jim. You’re going into shock. Need to take care of you.” Leonard dumped everything in his backpack out onto the floor of the cellar. “You know what to do?”

“Yeah. Fuck, I think I busted the hell out of my tailbone,” Jim whispered as he sat up. He swayed a little as he did. “Whoa. Everything just went wonky, Bones.” He started to topple over.

“I got you,” Leonard said, catching him as he passed out. “Jim? Oh, fuck, no. C’mon, Jim. I really need you to stay awake.”

Leonard laid him on his back and propped his feet up on the rock. He unfolded the strong, tissue-thin space blanket and wrapped it around Jim’s torso and thighs, then gently lifted Jim’s head and pushed a folded up t-shirt under it. He took his pulse: rapid and weak. “Dammit.” Satisfied that he’d done everything to treat the shock, he pulled back the space blanket. Taking the large knife from it sheath on his belt, he split open the sleeve of the raincoat and looked at Jim’s arm.

“Fuck, man, it’s bad,” he muttered. Jim must have dropped onto it because the wrist was limp and badly bruised; the forearm was swollen to twice its circumference already, and he could see the bones separating at unnatural angles under the skin. Leonard had had first-responder medical training--it was one of the survival skills his graduate advisor had made all his students take, and Leonard had kept up his certification and training through the years. He made a fair medic and had used it on many occasions even when he wasn’t in the field.

He re-tucked the blanket around Jim, then went back to the hole in the ceiling where he could just make out Ramelan’s face. “ _Jim is badly injured. Can you please contact Dr. Spock on the satellite phone?_ ” He tied the phone with the rope, and Ramelan pulled it up.

“ _I will call for help_ ,” he said. Then, his head disappeared.

Leonard walked back over to Jim and sat beside him. He monitored Jim’s pulse and breathing for the next twenty minutes. When his pulse became stronger and his breathing evened out, becoming regular and deep, Leonard felt a lot better. Jim was now asleep, the body’s natural defense against shock and pain. It was only then that he stood, scanning the area for something to use as a splint. With Jim down for the count, he carefully moved away to explore their surroundings.

The cellar ran another good ways back into the mountain; there were rocks set in a circle near the far end with one fairly long rock placed on top. He drew closer and then became very excited. “Oh, my god. Christine has _got_ to come down here and see this!” On the rocks were carved figures and Indic script. Had he not had to take care of Jim, he would’ve examined them more closely, but Jim was going to wake up soon and he needed to get his arm splinted while he could.

He walked back towards the decline of the cellar floor, passing under the hole. “ _Ramelan? Are you still up there_?” Ramelan didn’t reply, but Leonard wasn’t concerned at this point. Maybe he had found a better place to stay out of the rain.

Leonard continued to explore further down into the cellar, looking for some appropriate pieces of wood to make a splint, but stopped every so often to listen carefully for any sign of consciousness from Jim. Hearing no sounds, he kept going. The panic that he had experienced when he first entered the cellar was starting to fade away, and his professional curiosity and training took over. He started examining the construction of the walls more closely, marveling at the carving and the wood working. Looking up, he found several smaller holes where mud had come through the ceiling, and it was continuing to run downhill

He grew more and more excited with each find--small pieces of fired clay, a piece of metal, some bone tools. Then he looked to his right and wedged in between two large rocks, he discovered a cache of pottery, intact pottery bowls and pitchers, off to one side. “Oh my God!” he breathed, examining it as closely as he dared without touching. “This is the most beautiful piece I’ve ever seen.” Upon close examination he found that they were from the Sriwijaya Kingdom. He looked more closely. Only—not. “Holy shit! This is amazing! Jim! You gotta see this,” he shouted, before he could catch himself. He looked carefully behind and around the rock and counted: eight gorgeous examples of Sriwijaya-era worship vessels. Maybe even earlier. His hands itched to pick each piece up, but without a camera or being able to write proper field notes, he had to beat back the impulse to _touch_.

Heady with the thrill of the first truly significant, fantastic (“Brilliant!”) find of the expedition, he set off deeper into the cellar. There were more places where evidences of a rich artistic, practical, and spiritual life of these people lay, ready to be revealed. Leonard’s mind was working overtime, trying to place everything. From just the cursory evaluation of the pieces he was finding, there were nearly four hundred years of history in this place!

A sound caused him to whirl around and look back to where he’d come from. “Jim!” he exclaimed. Hearing nothing, he mentally slapped himself and disengaged from looking for artifacts. _Now, focus, Len. Flat, slender wood pieces._ His professional and personal concerns warred with each other briefly, but finally he sternly muttered, “This stuff isn’t going anywhere. Jim needs help, dammit.”

Finally, he found a dry tree branch, probably deposited in the cellar by a long-past mudslide that was long and thick enough from which he could make two pieces for a splint. He dragged it back to where Jim was still lying very still.

Leonard pulled his large knife from its sheath on his belt, and set to work stripping bark from the branch, splitting it into several workable pieces. He pulled back the blanket carefully and measured Jim’s forearm to cut the wood to the proper length.

Jim’s eye fluttered open, and he groaned. God help him, but that should not have sounded sexy to him. Leonard willed away that momentary wave of lust. “Jim? Jim--wake up, Jim. You gotta wake up and see all the cool shit I’ve found,” he said.

“Whu--what?” Jim stirred more. “Ow, FUCK!”

Well, Jim’s arm did the trick. “Hey, kid. While you were snoozing, I took a tour of this place, and you would not believe what I found. God, kid, it’s brilliant.”

Jim tried to sit up at that. “Where? Where is it?”

“Now, just a damn minute. Take it easy.” He held up the two pieces of wood. “I gotta splint your arm.”

"No way."

Leonard huffed. “Look here, Jim. You aren’t moving until I get that arm taken care of. So sit up, hold it out, and stop acting like an infant.”

Jim rolled his eyes. “Got anything for pain?”

“Jesus--no, I don’t have any--well, wait. Yeah.” He opened a side pocket on the backpack, and pulled out a flask. “This is my good bourbon. I was waiting until the end of the expedition to hopefully celebrate our success, but since I found some great, great stuff, and this is a medical emergency...”

“Shut up and give me the bourbon, Bones,” Jim said, his right hand outstretched.

Leonard helped him to sit upright, and leaned him against the rock. “You okay?”

Jim closed his eyes. “Yeah, I think I’ll be all right.”

Leonard unscrewed the top of the flask. “Sip it. Don’t toss the whole damn thing down your goozle, kid.”

“Fuck you, old man. I know how to drink bourbon.”

“Just checking.”

Jim took two short swigs of the bourbon, grimacing at the burn. “God, I’ve never gotten used to drinking that without ice.”

“What an infant,” Leonard muttered shaking his head. “Drink up, Jim. Time’s a-wasting.”

Jim took several more sips and then tried to sit up straighter. “Damn, I’m feeling like I’m one big bruise.” He shifted from one side then the other, working out a kink in his back. Then he sagged against the rock again.

“Here,” Leonard said, stuffing the t-shirt behind Jim’s neck and head. “No need to suffer any more than you already are. Okay, I’m going to rip the sleeve off of your shirt and use it to tie the splints.”

“Sure about that?” Jim said. He had a slightly muzzy look about him as the bourbon coursed through his system. “I’m covered in mud and muck.”

Leonard brushed the drying mud from him and his face. “Actually, it’s not so bad any more. You’ve dried off nicely.”

As Leonard continued to brush the dirt away, Jim’s features appeared: the strong nose, high cheeks, and the lush lips. But as he ran his fingertips over Jim’s eyebrows, the blue eyes pierced him. “Bones, I’m fine,” Jim murmured.

Leonard smiled faintly at him. “You’re gonna be, that’s for sure. Jim, I think we may be looking at a colony that was in existence well before the Sriwijaya kingdom. I can’t be sure, but most of this stuff is definitely Hindu. And some of it’s gold, Jim.”

“Holy shit, really?” Jim’s eyes grew wider.

“Yeah, it’s amazing. And there are tree bark manuscripts.” Leonard cut the sleeve on Jim’s shirt, and carefully slid it down his injured arm. “I may need to use the other one, too.”

“Fuck that,” Jim cried. “OW! Tell me more about the manuscripts.”

Leonard tore the sleeve into long strips. “I didn’t touch them. They were in a pottery box, and in pretty good shape, but the characters on the outside were old Brahmi, mostly Sanskrit, but also a few words in the earliest Malay language I’ve ever seen. You and Nyota will have a lot to keep you busy.”

“Shit, we need to get her here, then,” Jim said in a strangled voice. “I wanna see this stuff. Help me up.”

“That’s not a good idea,” Leonard started to say.

Jim rolled over onto one knee and pushed up with his good arm; he stood and then swayed dangerously to one side. “Whoooa.”

Leonard caught him around the waist before he fell. Slumped in his arms, Jim grimaced. “The artifacts aren’t going anywhere, and neither are you. Sit.”

Jim cradled his broken arm closely to his body. “Fuck, man,” he breathed as Leonard lowered him back to the ground. “Do it, Bones. Set the break.”

Leonard felt gingerly around the swollen tissue to determine where the break was; he found the two ends of the broken bone. “Well, the good news is that it’s a clean break,” Leonard said, giving Jim an encouraging smile. “I think—no, I can set it and then that’ll be it until we can get you to a hospital in Medan.”

“Yeah, whatever. I’m not leaving now that we’ve finally found great stuff.”

“Hey,” Leonard tipped his finger under Jim’s chin and looked into his eyes, “you have to go to the hospital and get checked out as soon as we get out of here. A few days, then you’re back, right?”

“Bones!” Jim whined, then he pouted. “Aw, shit, you’re right.”

“Yeah, I am. Ok, you ready?”

“Do it, Bones.”

Jim screwed his eyes shut tightly as Leonard palpated his arm again, making sure he could feel the ends of the break. “Here we go. One, two—“ He pulled and rotated Jim’s arm a few degrees to the left, and felt the bones slide back into place. Jim yelled and stomped one foot in agony. “Hey, hey!” Leonard said. “Hang on. I got it. It’s done.”

Jim was breathing heavily. “Muthafucker! That HURT!”

“Sorry. I’m sorry about that, but I had to get the bone aligned.” He carefully placed the wood planks on either side of Jim’s forearm and wrapped a strip of fabric around it, tying it off. “Can you hold this? Sorry, but I just need one more hand.”

“Yeah, got it.” Leonard glanced at Jim: his eyes were very bright and rimmed red, and his forehead was bathed in a fine sheen. His heart went out to the other man; he was in considerable pain, and looked vulnerable and so _young_. Leonard worked as quickly as he dared. Finally, the splint was in place. He turned and rummaged through his backpack again, and found a towel at the bottom. Folding it, he fashioned a sling from it.

“Lean forward,” he said. Jim’s eyes were closed. “Jim?”

“Hmm?”

“Hey, Jim, lean forward so I can put this around you.” Jim leaned forward and pressed his forehead to Leonard’s shoulder; he slipped the towel around Jim’s body, then gingerly maneuvered Jim’s arm into the sling.

“Ow.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” Jim didn’t fall back to the rock, but remained against Leonard’s shoulder.

Leonard awkwardly patted Jim on the back; when that elicited no response, he rubbed his hand in ever widening circles. Jim sniffed, and rubbed his eyes on Leonard’s shoulder. “Sorry,” Jim mumbled.

“No problem. Here. Let me—“ Leonard scooted behind Jim, putting him in between his legs. “Now, lean back.” Leonard leaned against the rock, moving the t-shirt to cushion his lower back. “There. Better?”

Jim nodded. “Yeah.” After a few seconds of silence, he said, “I usually have a higher pain threshold than that.”

“Ain’t many people who can begin to tolerate having a bone set without serious pain meds,” Leonard said, moving to hold Jim more securely in his arms. “Most would’ve passed out.”

“Almost did.”

Leonard looked around and spotted his flask beside him. He picked it up and took a healthy swig; he welcomed the familiar burn and then handed it to Jim. “Here. Have some more.”

Jim took the flask and tipped it back. “I usually don’t drink.” His words came out slower.

“Noticed that.”

“Just don’t like losing control,” Jim said.

“Sounds like there’s some experience behind that.”

“Oooh, yeah. Some bad ones.”

Leonard chuckled. “So what happens when you have too much?”

Jim shrugged. “Oh, I just say a lot of stuff I don’t usually.”

“I find that hard to believe. You say plenty of embarrassing things even stone cold sober.”

“Yeah, but, I really lose the skidders when I’ve indulged.” Jim shifted, and as he did, he pressed into Leonard’s groin, causing all kinds of delightfully hot flashes to go off in Leonard.

“Easy on the goods there, Jim. Elbow at six o’clock.”

“Oh, sorry.” Jim shifted. Leonard pulled his leg up to a triangle, giving Jim a little more support. “Not really used to doing this.”

“Yeah, me neither.” Then, Leonard said, “Guess it’s getting kinda late out there. Light’s fading.”

“Yeah. Guess everyone’s gone to the village for the night.”

“And they should,” Leonard said. “The trail’s gonna be a mess until it dries out a bit. Ramelan’s still up there. Guess I should check on him. You be all right while I try to locate him?”

“Yeah, sure. Go on.”

Leonard carefully and slowly moved Jim out of his arms and propped him up on the rock. “Stay right there.”

“Not planning on going anywhere.”

Leonard walked over to the hole in the ceiling. “Ramelan?”

“ _Dr. McCoy, yes!_ ” Ramelan’s head appeared. “ _Dr. Spock conveys his greetings and said they will be back at first light._ ”

“ _Is it still raining?_ ”

“ _Yes. I have fashioned a shelter nearby in the trees with a piece of tarp. Are you and Dr. Jim all right?_ ”

“ _He’s got a badly broken arm. There’s no way we can get him out of here without something more substantial than a rope._ ”

“ _I will keep watch then,_ ” Ramelan said, throwing him a salute.

“ _Good man, and thank you,_ ” Leonard replied with a smile.

He returned to Jim and arranged himself as before: Jim in between his legs with Jim’s arm tied tightly across his body and leaning against one of Leonard’s legs. They lay together in the growing dusk. It was comfortable—well, as comfortable as being in an ancient cellar, in the dark, leaning up against a rock with just a couple of flashlights. But they were surrounded by evidences of an ancient temple—the possibilities of the next few days and weeks filled him with such hope and excitement and satisfaction. And he held in his arms someone who understood what that meant to him.

“Bones, tell me,” Jim said, finishing off the last of the bourbon, “why Pike?”

Leonard knew that question had probably been bubbling around in Jim’s head for quite some time. He was eternally grateful Jim hadn’t brought it up before now, what with being surrounded by other people for the past month. But now, since it was just the two of him, he found he wasn’t at all reticent about telling Jim how his relationship started with Chris Pike and progressed over the last few years; about his divorce, and how it left him completely adrift until the night Chris asked him to dinner.

“How does someone go from being married to a woman to being with a guy?” Jim asked, his words slurring. “I mean, I like women, but I prefer being with men. You sound like you switched teams.”

“Always been this way, I guess,” Leonard said. “Was with a guy in college for a while, had a few girlfriends and some boyfriends, but then I met Jocelyn and she seemed to be the one.”

Jim fell silent for a moment. “So, are you in love with Pike?”

Leonard took his time answering, sorting through his feelings about Chris. He’d been so busy with the expedition that he really hadn’t had time to think deeply about Chris’s change of heart, save for the one conversation with Jim over dinner. There was the smoldering anger, some disgust at having been played. But did he have the right to feel that way? Chris had always insisted there was no agreement, no formal shape to their relationship, and Leonard had been all right with that. Coming out of a bitter and unnerving divorce after he’d been cuckolded by Jocelyn, he refused any thought of another relationship. Still, he had opened his heart a little to Chris, unconsciously so, because Leonard didn’t think he could ever have a sexual relationship with anyone he was not prepared to give his whole self over to.

Honestly, though, he’d been living a lie. “No. . .yes. Not really,” he said softly. “And maybe that was the problem. I just—I can’t…”

“You don’t do anything half-way, Bones,” Jim finished for him.

Jim’s observation surprised him a little. “No, I suppose I don’t.”

More silence. Leonard turned over many questions in his head, questions he’d been wanting to ask Jim ever since, well, ever since he named him ‘Bones’. _Why?_ , and _What’s it to you?_ , and _Why didn’t you tell me you grew up in Sumatra?_ , and _Why are you so much more than you appear to be?_ But instead he asked, “Jim, why’d you do that exhibit on my work?”

He heard Jim chuckle, felt it resonate through Jim’s chest to his. “Took you long enough to ask, you stubborn bastard.”

Leonard shrugged. “Christine gave me some lame reasons. But…aw, hell, I just didn’t want to go there.”

That prompted Jim to laugh. As he shook in his arms, Leonard thought how good it was to hear Jim laugh again. “Took the ‘guy’ way out—don’t ask, don’t tell, don’t get the truth. Well, I guess there is something for me to confess, too,” Jim said. And then, he nuzzled his head closer to Leonard’s face, his nose nestled in the hollow of Leonard’s neck.

Leonard tried not to show his surprise at this… _snuggling_. Of course he loved holding Joanna like this, her small body pliant and warm against his as they shared stories before bedtime. He missed being touched, having another person’s body pressed to his, even if it was simply for warmth or comfort. But this—this was so much more.

“I was finishing my undergrad degree in Asian studies,” Jim said, “casting about for what to do next. My mom was pushing me hard to return to Bali to work with her. Thought about going into linguistics, or just hanging out at the beach. But I wanted to do something more active, more me. I loved the archaeology course I took as a sophomore, so I took an upper level seminar my last semester and got hooked. It was all Native American, great stuff, loved it. Applied to UCLA to work with Boyce. He took us to Alaska and the Arctic Circle, and I loved it. Started doing research for my dissertation, and that’s when your first bone paper came out.”

Leonard made a surprised noise. “You’re a damn good writer,” Jim continued. “It was amazing. You were telling me about my home, a part of my home that I hadn’t ever thought to look at. Then I read your dissertation, and your first big Sumatran expedition paper, that was it. Boyce was not happy, at all, when I changed my focus, but you opened my eyes to what I had to do. I had to return to Indonesia, to the very heart of who I am.”

As he spoke he linked his fingers with Leonard’s, his thumb rubbing the calluses made by the shovel and picks and hammers along his palm. “Your work changed my life, Bones. You changed _me_. And then when Cartwright came and told me Pike wanted me for a short-term appointment to help with this dig, god, I thought I’d died and gone to heaven. To get to work with you, to learn your dating technique, to be able to watch you work . . . .”

Jim fell silent. Leonard’s head was spinning with Jim’s admission. “Why didn’t you say anything?” Leonard finally asked.

Jim snorted. “Come _on_. Like I was going to tell you all that.”

“But you told Christine.”

“She has evil superpowers. I was helpless against the onslaught of questions.”

It was Leonard’s turn to snort. “And you’re obviously no match for good bourbon.”

“That I am, Bones.” Leonard felt Jim push away from him, just a little, and turn. “But,” he said in a low voice in Leonard’s ear, “I’m glad I told you. Makes it easier to do this.”

In the pitch dark of the cellar, Leonard couldn’t see the shine in Jim’s eyes, how he licked his dry lips. But he felt Jim kiss his cheek, rub his day-old stubble against his own, plant small kisses along the line of his jaw, and then lick the corner of his mouth. “Bones,” he breathed.

Leonard tilted his head slightly into Jim’s, and felt the tip of his tongue wet his lips. “Bones.”

And that was it. Leonard opened to Jim fully, welcomed his kiss, the heat and passion of it without reservation. It took every ounce of willpower to not crush Jim to his chest, mindful even of Jim’s shattered arm as Jim’s tongue rolled around his in a sensuous dance. Jim made delightful small noises that went straight to Leonard’s stomach, causing it to flip-flop. God, how long had it been since someone made him feel this way, made him feel like he was _flying, floating_. Leonard slid his hand to the back of Jim’s neck and touched the warm, soft skin there, holding him in place.

They moved their faces, moved their noses to draw breath, unwilling and unable to break the kiss. Jim had spun in Leonard’s embrace to face him fully, protecting his arm by holding it out. That left Leonard the freedom to press Jim’s slender body to his. _So warm_. He could feel the heat of Jim’s erection along his thigh, and carefully he moved one hand to trace along its hard length. Jim moaned at the contact, pushed his hip into Leonard’s touch. Leonard rubbed more deliberately, wanting to make Jim feel good, to replace the intense pain with this pleasure.

Jim broke the kiss with a gasp of pain. “Oh, god. I want this, want you so bad. But this isn’t the place or the time.” He rested his forehead to Leonard’s, his hand clammy against Leonard’s cheek. “And I just hit my arm on the rock.”

“Shit, Jim,” Leonard said, pulling him carefully to sit in his embrace again. “Stop. We can’t risk you injuring yourself further. Here—“ He arranged them to lie fully horizontal on the hard ground. “We’re gonna spend the night down here. May as well try to sleep.” He turned on the flashlight to locate the backpack and space blanket. Once he gathered everything, he folded the backpack in half--the padded back made a decent pillow--then covered Jim’s body with the thin space blanket.

Jim turned into Leonard’s body, his broken arm resting on Leonard’s chest. “I want this too, Jim,” he murmured in Jim’s hair, then kissed his temple, “for longer than you know, maybe longer than I know. We have all the time in the world to do everything we want.”

Jim responded by raising up to kiss him slowly and sweetly. “And we will, too.”

Leonard pulled him tighter. “I look forward it.”

Jim nestled his nose into Leonard’s neck, wheezing slightly as sleep stole into his body, making it pliant and heavy in Leonard’s arms. Little by little, his limbs relaxed, making Leonard smile as the heat from Jim’s body made him sleepy, too. They were still in quite a predicament, but here in this cellar, surrounded by what could be the greatest discovery of his career, and his arms full of another kind of promise, Leonard fell asleep.


	4. CHAPTER 4

“Bones? Bones, you gotta wake up, man.”

Leonard struggled to make sense of things. It was pitch black, warm, but dry. Someone was talking to him, but his tired brain couldn’t quite put together who it was.

“Bones, wake UP!”

He started, as everything fell into place: Jim, cellar, broken arm— “Jim, you all right?” He sat up quickly.

“I’m okay, but I gotta piss, man, like so bad my bladder’s gonna rupture.”

 _Oh._ “Oh, god, yeah. I should’ve asked you about that before we went to sleep.”

“Never mind. I’m telling you now. I gotta go, and I’m gonna need help.”

“Right.” Leonard felt around for the headlamps he had deliberately placed near his head and, with a huge sigh of relief, his hand closed around them. “Here, put this on and let’s take care of you. I need to go, too.”

Jim turned on his headlamp, nearly blinding Leonard in the process. “Sorry. Um…over there good?”

“Yep. I don’t remember seeing anything except mud there.”

They gingerly walked to the edge of the cellar, careful to select a downhill traverse. “These walls are fantastic, Bones,” Jim exclaimed, shining the headlamp all around him. “Damn, someone chiseled out all this rock.”

“Focus, Jim,” Leonard said. “Um…I suppose I need to undo your button?”

“That would help, unless you wanna excavate for my dick inside my pants.” Jim smiled lasciviously at him.

Leonard ghosted a breath over Jim’s ear. “Not that I wouldn’t find that completely enjoyable, I don’t think this is the time or place—just yet. Do you?”

“Spoil sport. And, besides I really gotta go.”

Having taken care of primal needs, and gotten Jim tucked away, Leonard looked around at their surroundings, then pulled on Jim’s t-shirt. “If you’re up to it, you have to come see what I found. Over here.”

~~*~~

“Dr. McCoy! Dr. Kirk!”

Leonard looked up from the site he and Jim were presently surveying, thinking he had heard someone’s voice. They had found a total of twenty-eight caches of artifacts, all of them in pristine condition. But lacking cameras and other documentary accessories, they hadn’t dared touch anything.

“Dr. McCoy? Dr. Kirk!”

“I think the cavalry has arrived,” Leonard said with a smile. “Time to get you out of here and to a hospital.”

“But, Bones, I’m _fine_. My arm barely hurts anymore. My limp has improved a whole lot since this morning, and my back isn’t nearly as stiff as it was.”

“Look, I’m not gonna argue with you,” Leonard said as they made their way to the top of the cellar. “WE’RE HERE!” he shouted. “You need to get checked over. It’s museum policy, and as expedition leader, that’s an order. You don’t come back to this site until you get the all-clear from a qualified medical doctor.”

“But—“

“Dammit, Jim.” He stopped and pulled Jim to him. “I want you healthy. I want you in this full bore, and you can’t do that with your arm in a temporary splint.” Leonard’s lips touched his. “I need you to be healthy so we can continue this.” He kissed Jim again, harder, his hand slipping around Jim’s waist as Jim’s good hand clutched at Leonard’s shirt. Nipping at his lips, Leonard slipped his tongue inside Jim’s impossibly warm mouth, enjoying the pleasant buzz of building passion. Jim moaned and rubbed his hips against Leonard’s.

“Dr. McCoy! Are you all right?”

A light shone around them, and Leonard and Jim jerked apart. “Spock,” Leonard said, his headlamp finding the unflappable, taciturn curator dangling in a rescue harness suspended ten feet above the floor. “It’s good to see you.”

“And you as well. Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. It’s Jim here who needs to get to a hospital.”

Spock called up to the team working the rope through the hole Jim and Leonard came through, and he was slowly lowered to the cellar floor. For a few moments, he did not say anything. “This is _fascinating_ ,” he breathed finally. He shone his light along the stone walls and the wooden supports above. “Fascinating.”

“Spock, this place is fucking unbelievable,” Jim said. “Bones found so much stuff here last night.” He grabbed Spock’s bicep. “We think it’s pre-Sriwijaya, in the Hindu period. There are documents, Spock. _Documents_ in Brahmi Sanskrit script. Written on bamboo.”

The unflappable curator raised both eyebrows. “That would be—“

“Groundbreaking. Remarkable. Career-making,” Leonard added, smiling broadly.

“You have, of course, followed protocol?”

Leonard scoffed. “Of course.”

“Haven’t moved a thing,” Jim said, “even though we both really, really wanted to.”

“But we didn’t.”

“Of course not.”

“Gentlemen, this is an historical moment. If your preliminary analysis is correct, we may be on the verge of writing a new chapter in Sumatra’s history, indeed of the entire region. However,” he said, looking at Jim, “you must be taken to hospital immediately. Your arm must be treated properly.”

“And he needs to be checked all over,” Leonard interjected, pulling Jim to the harness. “He fell through that hole and landed on his back after he broke the fall with his arm.”

“Then it is imperative that you receive medical attention, Dr. Kirk,” Spock said, lifting Jim in a surprisingly strong hold while Leonard wrestled with the getting the harness up Jim’s legs and buckled around his waist. “We have a rescue helicopter waiting at the site.”

“Aw, that’s not necessary,” Jim protested. “I can just go to the clinic in the village.”

“No,” Leonard said emphatically. “Medan has a hospital with an orthopedic surgeon. You’re going there. Shut up, do it.”

“Bossy,” Jim whispered in Leonard’s ear as Leonard stepped closer to make sure all the straps were buckled and pulled tightly. “I like it.”

“Stop that,” Leonard murmured.

“Hey, no pulling out the good stuff while I’m gone, all right?” Jim said to Spock. “Especially the box.”

“What box?” Spock asked.

“It’s ceramic and in pristine condition, and I don’t know what’s in it. I want to be there when we open it. Spock, you’re gonna wet yourself when you see all the fabulous things here,” Jim said.

“Okay!” Leonard shouted up. “Pull him up. Hang on tight, Jim, and I’ll see you when you get back.”

“Don’t I get a kiss goodbye?” Jim said, batting his eyes at Leonard.

“Is this how it’s gonna be, you infant?” Leonard rolled his eyes, but smiled nonetheless.

Jim grinned at him. “Maybe. It’ll be worth it, won’t it?”

Leonard leant in and gave him a peck on the cheek. “Hang on tight. I want to get to know that body of yours. Quite well,” he said softly.

As the rope was pulled taut and Jim began to rise, he closed his eyes and shook his head. “You know how to hurt a guy, Bones.”

“I keep my promises, too.”

Jim was now nearing the hole in the ceiling. Before his head went through, Jim called down, “I know.”

Leonard waved at him, and then turned to find Spock looking at him. “You and Dr. Kirk became quite close during the night?”

Yeah, like he really wanted to discuss this with Spock. “Something like that. Here’s a quick inventory of sites within the cellar.” Leonard reached into his back pocket and handed him a notebook. “And look over here--I’m telling you it’s going to turn everything we know about the Hindu era. . .”

While Spock looked over the inventory of site they’d made and walked around in this newly discovered place, Leonard sat on the ground and ruminated on the change in his relationship with Jim. They’d been moving slowly, inexorably towards this moment. He’d felt the shift in the tension within himself, from one of competition and anger to acceptance and friendship, all the while fighting the… _attraction, lust_ for Jim. He’d shoved it aside in his mind, ignored it, wrote it off as just appreciation for a good looking man. But then, he’d realized Jim had been encouraging the attraction by touching him, sitting next to him at every meal, slinging his arm about his shoulders. Then there were the discussions long into the night about every topic under the sun, stimulating and feeding Leonard’s nerdy intellectual side.

And now this, their first kiss, the undeniable passion and heat between them. It was clear Jim wanted him, wanted him badly. With Jim now off to Medan for the next few days, he’d have time to think, think about not _what_ he wanted, but how much. One thing he knew would be true: he would not hide this relationship and, if Jim was willing, he’d play for keeps.

~~*~~

Leonard gritted his jaw and pushed open the door of the battered Land Rover, his eyes roaming over the site. The altered landscape looked like another world. He staggered, but kept urging his legs forward. He waved back at the car, leant forward, picked a shovel out of the mud, and kept walking, never completely stopping as he surveyed the ruins of their work.

For two days, he and the expedition team teetered between despair and euphoria. The mudslide had devastated the site and their living area. Parts of it were buried, nothing visible under a smooth plane of glistening black mud, while other parts were tangled masses, jumbled canvas, nylon, splintered wood, metal jutting up at awkward angles, bits of colored plastic dotting bent and broken limbs, green leaves floating peacefully in small puddles in juxtaposition to the decimation surrounding those little oases of calm.

His tent, the ‘command’ tent, had been pressed into the side of the embankment, but not destroyed. His cot, though, was mangled beyond hope, and all his personal effects had to be washed, rinsed, or discarded. Several of his books had disappeared. His field tools were scattered about the site and were retrieved. But all the most valuable of their equipment--the dating microscope and its computer console, computers and handguns--had been packed well and survived the onslaught. While he’d been in the village talking to Chris, someone had sorted it out. That one small thing cheered him somewhat. The villagers would be bringing up the rest of his personal effects by the end of the day, including a new cot and sleeping bag; at least he had a place to sleep tonight.

Even the large mess tent had been flattened. Christine, when she had returned the morning after, organized a team to recover, clean and reset it so that there was a place for the other recovery teams to eat and rest. However, most of their original food stores, water, and the precious power generator that ran the drying racks and the microscope, had been washed away. A new generator was two days off, but, again, the friendly villagers offered to send cooked food and water up the mountain. She had doggedly slogged through the mud to find as much of their kitchen and dining equipment, and counted it a major victory when she found the aluminum dripolator; in celebration, she made a pot of coffee in the middle of the day. “Who cares if it’s 90 in the shade? We have coffee!” she crowed.

But the loss of Chahaya filled everyone with grief. The security man had been a loyal member of the team, and someone that Leonard had spoken to on many occasions. He found out that Chahaya was from one of the smaller islands in Indonesia, and that he had two sons, one of whom was in Jakarta at the university, studying engineering. His wife was dead, but his parents were still living and caring for his youngest son, who was also destined for university training. They shared hopes and dreams for their children as fathers often do; Chahaya loved the photos of Joanna, and looked forward to Leonard reading the emails she’d written when he went into the village every week to file reports, retrieve email for everyone, and consult with Chris via the internet. The civil authorities from the regional government had not yet recovered his body.

And now, the weight of the past two days weighed heavily on him. He sagged, resting heavily on the handle of the shovel. “So much work...” he muttered to himself. He wondered if this expedition was going to go south, just like the last one did, what with the death of a man and the devastation of the site. Plus, there had been non-stop rain--mostly drizzle, occasional downpours, but near constant, steady rainfall. He wiped his face again for the thousandth time that day, cursing the rain and the mud and the loss.

A warm hand rested on his shoulder and he ducked his head, leaning into the touch. “But we found it, Bones. Once we get into the cellar and start getting everything out, it’ll work out for the best, you’ll see.”

Jim’s voice was earnest and warm against his neck, made his breath hitch. Jim had returned to the site late yesterday, still recovering from surgery to pin his shattered wrist and radius. He had pitched such a fit yesterday morning when told the doctors wanted to keep him another night that they finally allowed him to leave. But he had paid a price for it; by the time he had arrived, he’d been in tremendous pain. He visited with each member of the team, introduced himself to the new diggers from the village, and tried to help the native dining crew with dinner. And Leonard had been very glad to welcome him back, even if it was only to eat dinner, share one (brilliant and passionate) kiss and then bed him down with a powerful pain reliever which knocked Jim out completely.

Jim couldn’t wield a shovel, but he could supervise the villagers Pike had agreed to hire to help clear the site. Spock had convinced the Ministry to pay for some of the Museum Nasional Jakarta’s network of experienced diggers to come from the museum system as well as hire some local villagers to help as well. Jim’s command of the dialects once again meant instructions were conveyed clearly and with inspiration, and in turn, the new workers got it right the first time. Leonard kept an eye on him throughout the day, making sure he was resting when he needed to and was drinking enough water; several times he observed him taking a pain pill, probably nothing stronger than naproxen, but that meant he was still in pain. Even that, though, couldn’t dim his exuberant, brilliant, and focused self.

“Jim, there’s just so much to--” he whispered, but he was cut off by Jim’s lips at his ear.

“Shhh. Stop it,” he commanded. “You’re thinking too much. You’re overwhelmed. See the individual parts.” He stood in front of Leonard and looked into his eyes. “Pike’s got more than enough money to keep us going for the next several months; more help and a new generator are on the way as we speak. We’ll be back up and running by tomorrow night. The next day, we’ll be opening the ceiling of the cellar and making history. It’s going to be brilliant...” He paused and Leonard turned, caught something dark flash in his luminous blue eyes before the sun returned to them.

Leonard lifted his chin, his spine straightening as Jim spoke. His lips set in a line and he nodded, brow furrowing. Yeah, he could do this. _They_ could do this. Together nothing could stop them. With Jim at his side, Leonard truly believed that for the first time in a very long time.

~~*~~

“Bones!” Jim shouted as he rushed up to Leonard. “Look at this!”

Leonard lifted his head, tearing his eyes from the intricate carving on the altar; the delicate whorls and curls of the ancient lettering were slowly revealing their secrets under his careful hand. The wood work was still surprisingly well-preserved, even in this clime, where things not carved in stone had a rather short lifespan; but in this stone cellar the environment had remained fairly constant, even over fifteen hundred years.

Jim was holding another piece of pottery with gold leaf on it. His broken arm was held underneath his good, cradling the find, protecting it. Leonard stood, grumbling at his stiff knees, but he smiled despite himself. Jim was practically vibrating with restrained enthusiasm, all the while managing to make the green, purple, and red of healing bruises and cuts altogether too sexy. Leonard shook his head, still amazed at Jim half the time, completely unsure about him the other half. He could not figure out what the hell the brilliant kid could see in _him_.

“God, this gold leafing is exquisite, and so unusual,” Leonard said. “How many pieces do we have like this now?”

“I think Christine has inventoried sixteen bowls,” Jim said, examining it under the lamps that illuminated the dark space of the cellar. Even with a good portion of the earthen ceiling carefully removed, it was still very dark. “And each one is just a little different. Ceremonial, I’m thinking.”

“Most definitely,” Leonard said. “See these markings? Same as on this altar piece here and here.” He pointed to the low wood and stone riser at the top of the cellar where he’d been working. “I’m about ready to start excavating underneath. You wanna help?”

“Hell, yeah,” Jim said. His nose and cheek were smudged with dirt, and Leonard couldn’t resist brushing it off with a finger. “Cut that out,” Jim said, laughing.

Leonard gave him a genuine smile, one of the first ones he’d been able to muster over the past week. Once their camp had finally been re-established and work crews had started clearing the mud and debris from the upper site, they had turned their attention to the important findings in the stone cellar after extensive photography and mapping. Hikaru and Pavel had spent two solid days taking measurements and noting architectural features before they could open the ceiling.

And, at last, Chahaya’s body had been found on the eastern shore of the lake. Since he was Muslim, the team had held a brief prayer service for him in order to fly the body home to his family as soon as possible. Spock, as his employer, had accompanied the body and had picked up Chris Pike at Jakarta, so both could express their condolences to the man’s family.

With closure to his grief, Leonard could turn to his attention to the work ahead. Five days of photographing, setting out string grids, and making field notes of preliminary findings had left him antsy as hell. It was important to do this tedious work, but he was anxious to finally open the sites and reveal what treasures they held.

The worship platform had held Leonard’s attention for most of the day. Jim had been working with Christine and Hikaru; Pavel and one of Spock’s assistant curators, Kavi, were working another site in the cave. Another team of archaeologists was cleaning and packing artifacts before sending them through the ceiling to a central storage area that was being monitored by another one of Spock’s archaeologists. Christine orchestrated everything from a center work station where her computer was hooked up to a solar-powered generator.

Leonard began brushing the dirt away from the back of the altar in quick, even strokes. In his experience, idols and other valuable pieces were usually stored there, and the way the dirt was contoured made him think this was going to be fairly typical. The dirt was hard-packed after so many centuries of disuse, so he pulled out his small picks and hammers.

“Jim, you want to brush as I chisel away at this?” Leonard asked.

“Sure do.”

Leonard gently tapped the dirt, and was delighted to see it give way fairly easily. He worked all along the edge, then started over again, digging further into the dirt. After several more passes with the trowel and pick, he hit something solid.

“Jim, I think I have something. Come brush and I’ll photograph it.”

Jim moved closer and brushed slowly over the lump in the dirt. Leonard took a deep breath to control his excitement as he focused the lens and turned on the flash.

“Oh my God, Bones,” Jim exclaimed.

Leonard took several photos as Jim’s brushing revealed a large Hindu statue, in the likeness of Bhavneshwari. He nearly dropped the camera. “The Queen of the Universe,” he breathed. “I’ve only ever seen one of her in Indonesia. And I think that one may have come from outside the region.”

Another one was revealed as Jim continued to brush. Leonard kept a firm grip on the camera as Jim uncovered four other statues, all Mahavidya, wisdom goddesses.

“Oh, my God, Bones,” Jim said again. “This is amazing.” He carefully brushed the dirt away from another statue. “This is Tara--what? Goddess of Silence, I think? I don’t think we’ve ever found evidence of the wisdom goddesses here in Sumatra.”

Finally satisfied he had enough photographs, Leonard set the camera down and picked up one of the pieces. “Jim, this is--”

“It’s gold, Bones. It’s pure gold.” Jim’s voice was hushed with awe. “I’ll bet you all the stars in the heavens this is Minangkabau gold. It fits the time period when we know that gold was being mined, and holy shit, this is _fantastic_!”

Jim gave a holler and was smiling and too damned close, and suddenly, without thought, they were kissing, fumbling together. He tasted of mud and the ginger tea he’d been drinking, but it was good, and Leonard lingered, wrapped one arm around Jim, pulled him closer even as the statue was held gingerly in his hand, secured between them, the kiss turned from a hard tangling of lips, tongue, and teeth into something deeper, languid and yet filled with growing heat and so much underlying the words they’d not yet spoken.

“Shit!” He forced himself to pull away, had to steady them both, Jim’s cast knocking him in the ribs as they shifted, but they were both smiling stupidly, blinking at each other when Leonard finally realized what had startled him out of the lip lock. Cat calls and a wolf whistle. From Christine, who was standing nearby, her silhouette stark against the bright lights.

Her hands were on her hips, the smile he couldn’t see very evident in her voice. “Don’t mind me. I was rather enjoying the show.”

He blushed and then growled. “Dammit, Chapel! Get back to work!”

She laughed and walked toward them. “Oh, hell no, boss. You can’t scare me off that easily. Besides, I _am_ working. So, what have you found for me to put into the database?”

Wordlessly, Leonard handed over the golden statue he was holding. “Is that what I think it is? Hindu? Bhavneshwari?” Christine breathed.

“It is, and there’s more,” Jim said. “There are some jewels in the eyes and crown. My God, this is some exquisite work.”

“Well, let’s get this catalogued right now,” she said. “Got the camera disc for me to download the field photos?”

“Right here,” Leonard replied, handing her the camera. “I’m gonna keep looking around here, but Jim can give you the grid coordinates and stuff.”

“Bones, I can’t carry everything,” Jim said. “Can you...”

“Oh, yeah, of course.”

Several of the other archaeologists had gathered around Christine’s table and computer to see the golden statues. There was some general ‘ooh’-ing and ‘ahh’-ing over them. “Dis is good, yes,” Pavel exclaimed. “Wery waluable pieces.”

“And how,” Leonard said. “Once we get these up, we can fire up the ‘scope, and start dating some of these things.”

Pavel nodded excitedly. “Hikaru and I are anxious to try out the testing here. There has been too much rain for us to do any.”

“Hey, why don’t we move the ‘scope down here?” Sulu asked. “The temperature is fairly constant. It’s humid but at least it’s out of the rain.”

Leonard smacked himself in the head. “You’re a goddamn genius, Sulu. Of course it makes sense to move it down here. We can hook the ‘scope up to the generator. And it’ll be cooler in the evening anyway. Let’s do it.”

Jim looked up from where he was assisting Christine and gave Leonard a heart-melting smile that warmed him down to his toes. He looked at the boxes filling with artifacts pulled from other sites in the cellar. A sense of satisfaction settled over him, and suffused him with such peace, he thought his heart would burst. _This is it_ , he thought. _This is what I have been waiting for, to complete the work Jillian had just started and to do it in Brad’s name._ Thinking about his fallen colleagues, Leonard felt a rush of emotions he hadn’t experienced in quite a while, and he turned around to will them away. He rubbed his hand over his face, stretching the scar in his left palm; he looked at it and flexed it several times. _We have come home, my friends._

“Bones, you all right?” Jim asked quietly, as he put his hand on Leonard’s shoulder. “You hurt?”

“No, no. Just thinking about. . . things,” he replied. He cleared his throat and gave Jim a quick smile. Jim gave the shoulder a squeeze, but remained silent. “Someday, I think I need to--”

“ _Hey everyone! Lunch is about ready,_ ” called down Santoso, the other security guard. “ _I have made my mother’s curry. I suggest you get here before Pavel. Never have seen someone so small with such an appetite.”_

Everyone laughed, and the moment between Leonard and Jim was broken. “Later, Bones,” Jim said, giving his hand a quick squeeze. “We’ll talk more later.”

Jim began to head for the ladders along the walls before he stopped and looked at Leonard. “You coming?”

Leonard rolled his eyes. Pavel wasn’t the only one that could eat like a horse and still be skinny as a rail. Jim never stopped moving, burning through enough calories that he put away as much food as Pavel and was still whip chord lean, hard muscle and soft skin, a dangerous combination to Leonard's composure and professionalism. He’d just have to manage.

The day wore on with Leonard and Jim excavating three more wisdom goddess statues, bringing the total to seven, and Jim vowing not to leave until they found the other three he knew would be there. Other teams opened two more small sites in the cellar, and the above-ground team found the edge of an ancient wall. Pavel and Hikaru scrambled up the ladders to examine this new development, leaving Leonard and Jim and one team from Jakarta to continue the excavations. They worked until dusk, or really, until the generator quit running, killing their lights; Christine had to frantically back up the database to a flashdrive, an external hard drive and several writable discs. Jim thought it was overkill, but she merely shrugged. “Spoken like a man who’s never experienced a computer crash. Doesn’t hurt to be too redundant.”

After a good dinner provided by the small cafe in the village (“Mmmm,” Jim groaned. “I think _this_ just might be the best beef rendang anywhere.”), Leonard and Jim took up watch by their tent. Jim had moved in with Leonard under the pretext of doubling up to provide more tent space for the additional diggers. It was a hardship Leonard was secretly pleased with, especially since Jim was still hurting and Leonard could keep an eye on him.

“Are you still taking Vicodin?” Leonard asked, standing beside Jim’s chair with a bottle of bourbon in his hand.

“Nope. Took the last one yesterday. Why?”

“Want some?”

Jim eyed the bottle warily. “You know what it does to me.”

Leonard sat beside him, poured a finger-measure of the bourbon into a tin cup, and handed it to him. “I do. And for what I’m going to tell you I need well more than what I just gave you.”

Leonard tossed back a healthy swig, then immediately poured a deeper cupful. He hated talking about this, hated even thinking about it. But as the artifacts came pouring out of the site, the memories of his last Sumatran expedition had been swirling about his mind, and his heart, unbidden.

The last time he’d been in the field, the last time he’d been in Sumatra, he was miles from this place, further south, working on a dig that was hundreds of years older, revealing a much more primitive civilization. He was still married, still walking on clouds over getting an academic appointment at the University of Georgia, still completely besotted with his smart, beautiful four-year-old daughter. Jillian was just starting her graduate work--so talented, so _smart_ and enthusiastic; she was like a sponge, just soaking up everything that spilled from Leonard’s mouth. Brad, a big, affable man with a heart to match, was on the crest of winning tenure, and solidifying his reputation as an archaeologist with a near-encyclopedic knowledge of the Pacific Rim. Indonesia wasn’t even his area of expertise or attention, but he was along because he was just that awesome.

“And then everything went to hell,” Leonard said softly, mostly into his drink.

Jim’s hand grasped his wrist.

“We didn’t have anything of any value to anyone but the archaeological world. I found all those bone tools during that expedition, and when they discovered we didn’t have any gold or jade, that’s when they started shooting.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Jim said.

Leonard raised his face. “Of course it wasn’t. But I didn’t do anything to protect them. I just ... froze....”

“Bones--”

“I just stood there. Brad was yelling at me to get down, and then he started to come and get me. That’s--that’s when he got shot, right in front of me. In the head,” Leonard said, his voice thick. “He died trying to save me. And Jillian, god, she was--fighting off one of them back at the tent. She didn’t have a chance, even wielding a machete.”

Jim was silent for a moment. “God, Bones. That’s just the most horrible thing I’ve ever heard.” He reached for Leonard’s left hand, and turned it palm up. “Is that how you got this?”

Leonard nodded. “I picked up the statue that Brad had been holding and started to run.” He snorted. “To where, I have no idea, but I just started running. One of the men caught me, and ripped the statue from my hand and then tried to knife me after I tried to take it back, and that’s when he cut my hand. Landed one solid punch on the guy, but then that’s his compatriot shot me.”

“Jesus,” Jim breathed. “Where?”

Leonard touched his ribcage just under his heart. “The bullet ripped through my lung, but fortunately, didn’t hit anything else vital.” He took in a shaky breath. “They went into our tents, threw everything out, took our computers, phones, even my leather work boots. Took some of the artifacts and left us there, dying. I crawled over to Jillian, and she was still gasping when I got there, and she--” He gulped, and Jim tightened his grip on Leonard’s wrist, then took his hand. “She died in my arms. At least she didn’t die alone. But--” He scrubbed his free hand over his face. “She said she was doing what she was meant to do, and for me to not forget that.”

Leonard leaned back in the canvas chair, but didn’t let go of Jim’s hand. It was something of a relief to let go of the emotions he’d been feeling since he first learned of this expedition. He knew he wasn’t responsible for Brad and Jillian’s deaths; he himself had nearly died of blood loss, saved only by a party of the local villagers who came to check on them after hearing the gunshots. But still--the scene played out over and over in his head in the intervening years. What could he have done differently? Could he have saved one of them by doing something instead of standing, shocked, on the edge of the camp having just come back from the latrine? Would it have been possible to make it to the village if he had realized what was going on and taken off? Should they have had security with them, something they had turned down when they applied for the expedition permits with the government. _Could, would, should_ \--it made no difference. They were archaeologists, and despite the comparisons to the Hollywood image, archaeologists did not carry guns or bullwhips. They had trowels and picks and brushes, tools to open the earth to reveal its long-held secrets. The stone idol that the robbers took from them was ancient, and held no value except to the island of Sumatra in learning more about its past inhabitants. For a time, Leonard had hoped it would turn up somewhere, and he’d be able to make it a fitting memorial to the two fallen colleagues.

“Come on.” Jim pulled him out of the chair.

Leonard followed him into their tent. Silently, Jim sat him on the cot, then knelt in front of him, his casted arm resting on his thighs. “Bones,” he said softly, “there was nothing you could’ve done. Brad was dead the instant they shot him, you know that. And Jillian didn’t have a chance. Now, I don’t know why you were spared, why your life didn’t come to an end. I’m a little iffy about the whole Supreme Being thing, but I do believe in fate.” He rose up on his knees so that his face was level with Leonard’s. “The universe is not completely cruel. Shit happens, shit doesn’t happen. Maybe your life was spared so that you could be _here_ , today, in this moment, to do the things you’re doing _right now_ , I don’t know. Remember them, yes. God, yes. Dedicate this whole expedition to them. But never think any less of yourself or your life because you didn’t die seven years ago with them. Live your life so that it’s a reminder of their belief in you, what you’re doing, and how you do it.”

Leonard raised hooded, darkened eyes to Jim’s, and nodded, just barely. “I know. I do. I’m just---” he huffed and then tried to smile.

“Those stone idols in the museum,” Jim continued, “those were the ones you found, with them?”

Leonard nodded.

“Then while we’re here, let’s take a few days, after the expedition ends, and look around. Go to the regional museums and ask. We’ll ask Spock. You know, it may have ended up in a pawn shop or on the artifact auction circuit here in southeast Asia, and Spock’s people or another benefactor of the museums system here may have bought it without realizing where it was from. Okay?”

To Leonard, that sounded like a good idea and, instantly, he felt lighter than he had for days. Maybe it was the accumulation of the events of the disaster, the loss of Chahaya, seeing Jim disappear down a hole in the middle of a mudslide, even the loss of Chris’s affections that had dumped on him, and pushed him into a dark space in his mind. But Jim’s sunny optimism and his reassurances, well, that meant more to him than he could articulate.

So he didn’t even try. Jim was right there in front of him, eyes shining with sincerity and affection. Leonard leant in and placed a hesitant kiss on his lips. . . .

It was like lighting a fire with the driest of tinder. Jim quickly crawled into Leonard’s lap, wrapping his arms around him, lips working his open and a warm tongue rolling around his. Leonard allowed Jim to push him onto his back, his head falling into his pillow. He needed this, needed all the comfort and, well, maybe not _love_ \--for now, he’d just settle for affection and lust--to get him through the night. He could feel Jim’s erection, so hard, pressing into his hip. The mere thought that Jim was hard for him shot through him like wildfire, and he ground his own erection into Jim’s belly.

“God, Bones,” Jim murmured against his lips. “God...”

Suddenly, Leonard felt himself being dragged off the cot. “Wait! What the hell are you doing?” Leonard hissed.

“Shhh! Come here with me.”

Jim’s bed consisted of a thin, blow-up mattress that was slightly wider and squishier than his own cot. “C’mere, Bones,” Jim whispered.

“Jim, Christine and Kavi are in the next tent over,” Leonard said in a low voice. “We can’t--”

Jim’s eyes were bright with passion and mischief. “How quiet can you be?” He nipped at Leonard’s jawline, eliciting a soft moan. “Shhh!” He pulled back. “Are you a screamer?”

“I am _not_ a screamer.” Leonard licked a stripe up the tendon in Jim’s neck and nibbled on his ear lobe, and reached for the neck of his khaki shirt, shoving it away and down Jim’s arm. “I can be quiet. When I have to.” He pulled the shirt off Jim completely, and gave him a challenging look.

Jim returned the challenge in equal measure by unbuttoning Leonard’s shirt with remarkable dexterity; he slid his hand in and tweaked Leonard’s nipple, while peppering small kisses on his lips. Leonard shuddered and gave several stuttering breaths. “I don’t think you can do it,” Jim breathed in his ear, and then delicately traced the shell with his tongue.

Leonard retaliated by pulling Jim’s t-shirt up his torso and over his head in one fluid motion. “And if you’d just shut up--” He pushed Jim back into the pile of shirts that were functioning as a pillow and kissed him hard. Jim’s arms came around him, holding him closely; slowly, Jim rotated them so that they were chest to chest.

Jim’s hand gradually made its way down Leonard’s back and then rested on his ass; long, strong fingers kneaded the taut muscle. Leonard mirrored it and pulled Jim’s hips to his. Jim answered by thrusting into him; the touch of Jim’s erection to his sent sparks of desire through him. Jim’s tongue was rolling around his, and the combined sensations caused him to moan.

Jim jerked back, smiling. “You can’t do this,” he whispered. “You’re a moaner.”

Leonard fell onto his back and covered his eyes with one hand. “I can’t believe I did that.”  
He felt the start of a ferocious blush creep across his cheeks.

“Aw, Bones,” Jim said, laughing low and sexy. “You are so cute when you blush.”

Leonard tackled him, landing half on Jim’s chest, and claimed his lips in a punishing kiss. He heard Jim give a few high-pitched squeaks as Leonard worked his hand between them, and popped the top button of his jeans.

Jim went still, and stopped moving, his leg falling to side in encouragement. Leonard worked the rest of the buttons open and then pulled back, asking Jim permission with one raised eyebrow. He answered by cupping the back of Leonard’s neck and pulling him into a deeper kiss.

Leonard ran the tips of his fingers over Jim’s hot length lightly. It was longer than he thought, and as he pressed more firmly, it twitched. God, he wanted it in his hand so badly, but before he could do anything, Jim rolled him over and, with a fierceness, he deliberately unbuttoned, unzipped, and pushed Leonard’s Carharts and boxers over his hips. With no words, but with a look that said _everything_ , he took Leonard’s erect cock in hand, coated his palm with the pre-come that had accumulated, and gave it a few hard tugs.

Leonard’s eyes rolled back into his head, and before he could moan, Jim’s lips covered his once again. He felt Jim pushing his jeans down and then, felt a deliciously hot, hard, _wet_ cock grind into his. Involuntarily, he gasped.

“Shhh!” Jim hissed against his lips. He took both of their cocks in his hand and worked the heads relentlessly. They ground against each other faster and faster, Jim’s mouth never leaving his. Leonard felt the joyous, frantic pressure building as his balls tightened and then the warm splatter of come on his belly. He dared to open his eyes and saw that Jim had screwed his tightly shut as he came, trying desperately not to cry out. That only served to push him over the edge and as he felt his release come, he bit into Jim’s shoulder and breathed hard, never allowing a sound to issue forth.

Chests heaving, they clung to each other, soothing the giddiness of mutual orgasm with gentle massages to arms and backs. Jim’s hand carefully let go of their softening dicks, and brought it to his mouth. With a wicked smile he licked his fingers, then offered it to Leonard. It was the sexiest thing anyone, any lover, had ever done; he shivered as he sucked on Jim’s fingers, tasting their combined flavor.

“Jesus, Bones,” Jim finally breathed. “That was--” He paused.

“Yeah.”

They laid on their backs, fingers entwined, as the night deepened around them. Leonard was just about to drop off when he saw a light come on. Jim had turned on a headlamp, and silently, he pulled Leonard up from the pallet. “Time to get cleaned up,” he whispered. “Then, come back here and sleep with me.”

They pulled on sleeping shorts and t-shirts. Fortunately, there was a jug of water in the tent with which to wash and brush; Jim left to hit the latrine. As he passed the night watch, Leonard heard him exchange pleasantries in Batak. Waiting, Leonard pulled his bedding from the cot and covered the pallet. He lay on it, listening to the insects sing their night songs and the occasional bird trill in the distance. Silently, Jim reentered the tent, and lay beside him, curling into him and, placing a hand over his heart, claimed it for his own.

~~*~~

Leonard clicked off the satellite phone and turned back to his cot, his eyes drawn to Jim’s bared torso across the tent. A few rays of light caressed pale skin, revealed the slow, even breathing of deep sleep. Leonard’s eyes slid up to Jim’s face, the full lips parted and long eyelashes fluttering with dreams. Jim looked so young like this, but Leonard missed his near constant motion, the ever present smile and shine in his eyes. Leonard shook his head at his foolish notions and crawled back into his cot, hoping to get more sleep since Spock had been delayed.

With the sun already peeking over the crest of the mountain, there was no way for them to make the trip to the village and back in a single day. Leonard shifted on the cot, rolled to his side and closed his eyes, listening as the camp awoke. After shifting around a few more times, it was obvious that sleep wasn’t happening. He had been expecting the white knuckled trip down the mountain and now fidgeted from the leftover adrenaline. Huffing out a breath, he tossed the covers off and stood. He was awake now and might as well put the extra hour to good use and let Jim get some much-needed rest.

By the time he returned from using the outdoor shower, the sun was shining down on a hive of activity. Jim was up and dressed, barking out orders and pointing workers this way and that, always with a firm pat on the back and bright smile. He was a whirlwind of energy, his bright red ballcap bobbing throughout the site, even with the cast and the pain that shadowed his eyes.

Leonard waved and walked closer to Jim. "Mornin'. You need to pace yourself, kid."

"Bones!" Jim's eyes quickly noted Leonard's bare chest before pointedly fixing on his face. "Shouldn't you be ready?"

"Spock called. He's going to be late, so we still have almost an hour to kill."

"Good, there were a few--"

Leonard stopped Jim and shook his head. "Jim. It's not going anywhere. Everything will still be here when you get back and I will not be responsible for you missing your check-up."

"Bones," Jim almost whined. "Have you seen--"

Again Leonard stopped Jim, this time he pressed two fingers to Jim's lips because the only other thing he could think of to shut the kid up was not something that he was doing in the middle of the busy camp, no matter how beguiling those lips were.

Jim's eyes sparkled brightly in the morning light and his lips curved wickedly behind Leonard's fingers, which were still resting against the plump flesh. "Something you want, Bones?" he murmured; a warm, wet tongue brushed against Leonard's fingers.

Leonard pulled his hand back as though burnt and growled, "Dammit, Jim!"

Jim laughed aloud and Leonard couldn't help but join in as the flush faded from his cheeks. "Seriously, you need something?"

"Yeah, some coffee. And for you to sit your ass down for a few minutes. You can't make up for a whole day's work in an hour, so you're going to rest." Leonard's voice was firm as he gripped Jim by the bicep and dragged him toward the mess.

"Bones!" Jim protested.

"No arguing. Have you looked in the mirror, kid?" Leonard reached down and lifted Jim's arm, cupping the cast carefully as he waved it in front of Jim's face. "You're still banged up. I know you're determined, but you'll heal up sooner if you'll get enough sleep."

Leonard dragged them to an empty table off to the side of the mess and he pointed at the bench. "Sit." He shook his head, forestalling Jim. "I'm not arguing. I'm head of this dig and I'm responsible for everyone's health... including yours. Now stay."

"'m not a dog, Bones," Jim pouted, but he did not argue or try to get up when Leonard walked away. Shortly Leonard returned with two coffees, a full English breakfast for himself, and oatmeal for Jim.

Jim hastily reached for his cup of coffee and then swore, switching the cups. "Ewwww. How can you drink that swill? You’re ruining good coffee, man."

Leonard took an exaggerated sip of his three sugared coffee and grinned at Jim's grimace. "I don't know how you can drink it any other way."

Jim waved his spoon at Leonard. "Bones. Do you realize where we _are_? Some of the best coffee in the world is grown in Sumatra and you go and ruin it with enough sugar to send a horse into diabetic shock."

"You're one to talk, ‘Mister-bury-your-oatmeal-in-maple syrup- _and_ -brown-sugar’!"

"Don't forget the raisins! Oatmeal’s supposed to be tarted up, on the other hand, tampering with the divine caffeinated beverage... why... that’s... that’s sacrilege!" he spluttered.

Leonard lifted an eyebrow and purposefully took a long, slow sip as he held Jim’s eyes. “Ahhhh! Just the way coffee should be. Sweet and hot.” _’Like you’,_ Leonard thought.

Jim just shook his head and chuckled, the conversation fading into comfortable silence as they finished their breakfast.

They sat and enjoyed the morning, relaxing in each other's company until Leonard heard the engine of the Land Rover. The camp rushed out to greet Spock before he'd even crested the hill. The poor, ancient machine still managed the trip, although Leonard always expected it to expire on the spot, wheels going flat as the whole vehicle exhaled and sagged into the dirt. The age and state of _Enterprise_ , as Jim, in a sarcastic fit, had christened the 4x4, was another reason that Leonard had trouble sleeping the night before the trip to the village.

The trail had stabilized with as many runs as they'd made up and down, but the path was still incredibly steep. So steep that there were some points along the way where Leonard had to just close his eyes and thank the good Lord for seatbelts, else he was certain he'd end up in Spock's lap.

As Jim and Leonard strode out to meet Spock, Jim gave a low wolf-whistle and Leonard turned. "What?"

Jim held up one hand. "Hey, it's fine with me if you want to go like that. I was enjoying the view."

Leonard looked down and swore. The weather was such the perfect temperature that he'd forgotten he was still shirtless. "Dammit, Jim! Why didn't you say something? I shouldn't have been in the mess like this!"

Leonard stomped off to his tent followed by more than just Jim's cat calls and wolf whistles, a bright flush creeping up his chest and neck.

Within thirty minutes, they had the Rover loaded up with the next shipment of artifacts to be flown out to the Museum Nasional via Medan. A huge cache of silk, cotton and native tree bark textiles had been recovered deep in the cellar, and Leonard and Jim wanted to get them to Spock’s lab as soon as possible. Which meant that the gold ceremonial bowls and statues they’d found just yesterday were still on site. Keeping items with that much value made Leonard a little nervous, but there was no choice at the moment. They really needed better transport, but all their funds were best spent on workers and equipment rather than trucks and roads.

~~*~~

Having spent the rest of the day and the night in the village to conclude all their business--Chris was contacted and updated on their activities, emails answered and sent, the database updated, the artifacts locked away in the local constabulary, food procured and water jugs filled and loaded, Jim, Leonard and Spock began to make their way back up the mountain in the groaning _Enterprise_ at first light.

Leonard gripped the door handle, his fingers white from the pressure, as he flinched away from the branches slapping and scraping the sides of the 4x4. “Spock! Slow down, dammit! I’d rather get there late and in one piece than not at all.”

“Doctor, please refrain from back seat driving and allow me to concentrate. I know the trail well enough, but it does require my full attention.”

Leonard growled and was about to comment once again that if he’d only go slower he wouldn’t have to concentrate _quite_ so intently, but he was silenced by a warm hand on his shoulder.

“Bones! Look!” Jim was pointing over the cliffside toward Lake Toba which was glistening in the early morning sun. “Isn’t it beautiful?” The crater lake was a dark sapphire blue and it suddenly reminded Leonard of Jim’s eyes in the first rays of the day, before they turned that vivid cornflower blue in broad daylight.

 _Enterprise_ lurched and twisted as Spock drove it relentlessly up the treacherous path. They rounded another curve along the switchback trail and Spock swore lightly before slamming the brakes on and downshifting all at once. The 4x4 lurched forward, its back-end slipping to the side as Leonard was thrown hard forward, his seatbelt keeping him from slamming his head on the dash. Jim was not belted in and was thrown forward between the seats, his chest contacting with the gearshift and Spock’s knuckles.

“Fuck! Goddammit, Spock!”

Leonard was immediately helping Jim, gently checking him out.

“I’m fine, Bones. Just going to have another bruise.” Jim turned to Spock and glared at him. “What the fuck was that about?”

Spock just pointed and they both turned to look out the front window. A huge tree had fallen across their trail, blocking the path completely. There was no way back to the dig, at least not via motorized vehicle.

“Damn!”

“Exactly, Doctor. We can go no farther.”

Jim sighed as he rubbed his bruised sternum. He slumped back in his seat and huffed out a discouraged breath.

Leonard was quiet, and then said, “Doesn’t it strike you as odd that the tree fell right there?”

Spock shook his head. “The tree is large and appears quite old. It is not unlikely that the same instability that loosed the mudslide upon the camp further up the mountain also loosened the tree’s roots.”

“Yeah, I get that, Spock, just seems... weird to me.”

Jim shook his head. “You just don’t want to wait.”

“Do _you_ , Jim? We’re down here... the camp’s up there. I don’t like being away any longer than need be.”

Jim smiled softly at Leonard, sharing his enthusiasm, but there was nothing to be done now, except have some patience. “We’ll call Christine on the satellite phone and tell her what happened. We can suggest they wait until we get back before opening up any of the new caches. There’s more than enough work to do.”

Leonard nodded, giving Jim a resigned smile. “Fine.”

Spock interjected. “You two could take the horse trail. If you know how to ride, you may take the horses that the villagers have been using to convey supplies. Once we return to the village, I will contract workers to come and remove the downed tree to ensure the trail is open.”

Leonard looked at Jim in the backseat as Spock slowly inched the 4x4 around. “You know how to ride, kid?”

Jim was absently rubbing at his new cast and looked up from staring out the window. “What?” he hesitated as though lost in thought. “Oh, hell yeah. My grandad had some pretty strong views, felt like horses were better than trucks, so I can ride. It’s been a few years... but I’ll be fine. You?”

“Weelll,” Leonard drawled, as he looked at Jim. “I might have been born and raised in Georgia, but my mama was from Kentucky... horsebreeders, the lot of them on her side.” He then shrugged and kept looking at Jim to keep from seeing the view out his window, which now had the misfortune of being the cliff side. “So, yeah. I can ride. Might be fun even. Something different, anyway.”

Jim blinked and smiled. “Yeah, alright. Sounds good.” Then he looked at his cast. “You’re going to have to help me mount up. Can’t grip the pommel.”

“I think I can do that,” he winked at Jim before turning around to face Spock’s driving once again.

~~*~~

It took longer than expected to return to the village and find and saddle up two horses. The sun was high in the sky by the time they’d been able to leave.

A few hours in, Leonard shifted in the saddle, twisting to look back at Jim. He shouldn’t have been concerned. It was obvious from the first that Jim was an experienced rider. He had been immediately comfortable in the saddle once Leonard had helped him mount. The surreptitious grope of Jim’s ass that he got in was just a side benefit.

“What?” Jim was smiling back at him, a goofy, sunny grin on his face. “Do I have something on my face?”

“What? Oh... n-no.” Leonard stuttered out.

“Just admit it, Bones. You can’t keep your eyes... or hands off me.” Jim winked. “I’m irresistible.”

“Infant,” Leonard shot back. Even if it was true, Jim’s ego didn’t need any boost.

Jim laughed, “Kinky. Want me to call you ‘daddy’ and let you spank me, too?”

“Dammit, Jim!” Leonard flushed hotly and turned back up the trail. Leave it to Jim to tease him straight to a hard-on while they’re in the middle of nowhere. He shifted in the saddle again as Jim chuckled low in his chest. He could feel Jim’s eyes boring into his back.

Luckily for Leonard, the path curved and they were greeted with a gorgeous view of the lake spreading out before them. The water was a deep blue, still and dark, reflecting the sun and sparking in Leonard’s eyes before he could blink and get used to the brightness after being under the enclosed forest canopy.

The horse had stopped and was munching idly on some grass by the trail. The path was wide enough for two here and Jim maneuvered his horse next to Leonard’s.

When Leonard turned, Jim was close. Near enough that Leonard had to grip the reins and pommel to keep from reaching out and pulling Jim to him. He just wanted to kiss that smirk off his face.

“Hey, Bones. It’s hot and I’m tired. The horses need a break. What do you say to a swim?”

“A swim?” Leonard frowned at Jim who had his head cocked sideways and looked practically edible in the shifting shadows, his blue eyes near electric. “What happened to _’we gotta get back, Bones. No telling what they’ve found!’_?”

Jim’s mount shifted on the trail, stepping nervously from the delay. She knew that she’d have a reward at the camp and was eager to get there.

“That was before I realized the trail went right by the shore! Besides, you can’t tell me that the water doesn’t look inviting.”

“I can--” At Jim’s disbelieving glance, Leonard shrugged. “But I won’t. I don’t have swim trunks with me.”

“And your point?”

“Jim...”

“C’mon, Bones. Don’t tell me that you never went skinny dipping.” He nudged his horse toward the shoreline and they began to gingerly pick a trail through the underbrush.

“Wait a sec, Jim,” Leonard called out. “You can’t swim! You’ve got a cast on!”

Jim turned back and waved. “It’s Procel. They upgraded me when they noticed that I was always getting the other one dirty and couldn’t clean up good enough. I can bathe and swim with this one.” Jim was nearing the shore, his mare sidestepping on the fine, volcanic soil. “You coming?”

Leonard was struck silent. Skinny dipping... with Jim.... a _naked_ Jim.

With a sharp inhale he called out, “Wait!” Leonard then urged his mount forward as Jim turned back. “Wait for me.”

Jim’s smile rivaled the sun’s brightness and Leonard basked in it as they rode to the water’s edge.

“You need help getting down?”

Jim paused, considering, and then his eyes sparked mischievously. “Not normally. I have skills and can ‘go down’ just fine, but this time... I could use your help. Don’t want to fall and crack my skull open.”

Leonard rolled his eyes, but he wasn’t going to say anything, his cock was already pressing insistently against his jeans. Jim had a sweet, sweet ass in those sinfully tight jeans he was wearing and he wasn’t going to turn down the chance to get his hands on it, not when they were utterly alone.

The afternoon sun shone off the ripples of the water, turning them into a sheet of diamonds. The air was just beginning to cool, but the late summer sun was still hot. Leonard wiped the sheen of sweat off his face with the sleeve of his shirt.

“C’mon, old man. The day’s wasting,” Jim urged, his natural impatience surfacing.

“Hang on, hang on,” Leonard huffed. “Making sure the horses are tied up.” He gave a tug on the old mare’s lead once more, and stepped down the trail to the shoreline.

Jim unbuttoned his shirt and slipped it off. His t-shirt was a struggle, but he’d gotten pretty good at slipping it over his head with one hand and keeping it from snagging on the cast. He flicked the button to his jeans and slid the zipper down before groaning with frustration as he glared at his boots.

“Need some help with your laces?” Leonard asked.

Jim turned and nodded, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. “That’d be nice, Bones.”

Leonard had taken off his boots and shirt, but was still a bit hesitant about being caught out completely naked in the open. Chalk it up to a conservative upbringing, he rationalized. “Here,” he said, “have a seat on this rock, and I’ll get these off for you.” He knelt before Jim and started picking at the laces.

Jim rested a hand on Leonard’s shoulder and Leonard looked up, the sun behind Jim blinding him for a moment. Then his eyes adjusted and Jim’s face was shadowed but he wore a golden aura, his hair a fiery halo in the sun. Leonard blinked and swallowed thickly. Anyone could see that Jim was a good looking guy, but here, now, he was something else; all pale skin, corded muscle and tensile strength; his brilliant mind and bright enthusiasm coupled with the look in his eyes, the way the pale, azure blue had darkened, Leonard was transfixed, enthralled. He licked his lips, unsure if he wanted to strip Jim’s boots or if he just wanted to strip Jim bare and revel in all that glorious exposed flesh.

“Uh, Bones. Y’alright there?”

“What?” Leonard looked down again, and realized he had paused in the middle of pulling one of the boots off. “Yeah, fine.” He answered gruffly, and hurriedly pulled the boot and sock off, and then worked on the other.

Jim smiled. “Thanks,” he said, softly, cocking his head to give Leonard an appraising look, then he grinned. “Want to help me with my pants?”

“Do you need help?”

Jim leaned down, his face mere inches from Leonard’s. “Not really, but it’s more fun if you do it.” He breathed. “I kind of like you on your knees.”

Leonard recognized a challenge when he heard one. “But not on rocky ground,” he growled, rising. He pulled Jim off the rock with his good hand, steadying him by wrapping his arm around Jim’s waist. “I’ll be happy to help with those tight jeans.”

“You’re not helping... they’re even tighter now,” Jim huffed out a soft breath and pressed his hips forward.

“Fucking tease,” Leonard replied, his hand working its way under the waistband of the jeans. “And what’s this? No underwear? Dr. Kirk, didn’t your mama teach you you should always wear clean underwear just in case you had to go to the hospital?”

Jim gasped as Leonard reached into his pants, but went no further. “Dammit, who’s the tease now? Help me get these off, Bones. Want you.”

That was all the invitation Leonard needed. He made quick work of shoving the jeans down Jim’s long, lean legs, with Jim quickly stepping on the hems to pull his legs out. He popped the button on his Carharts and slid them down until he was standing in just his boxers.

Jim reached for him, ran calloused palms over Leonard’s back and slid one slowly up his side until he was thumbing a nipple. He looked at Leonard, met his gaze, his blue eyes challenging as he slowly leant forward, licked his lips and then pressed those spit-slick lips against Leonard’s.

Jim’s lips were slightly chapped, but they were warm and wet, and Leonard opened as Jim’s tongue flitted over his lips and pressed in.

Leonard felt his knees buckle slightly as Jim’s thumb continued to worry his right nipple; his tongue was doing equally delicious things to his mouth, thrusting and retreating in time with his thumb. He felt Jim’s casted arm tighten around him as he swayed. “I got you, Bones,” Jim murmured against his lips.

Jim did have him, more than he expected or had planned and Leonard tightened his arms around Jim in response, pulling his lithe body closer. The kiss grew stronger, deeper, more heated and Leonard was lost in the thrusting of their tongues, the insistent press of their groins, Jim’s hard cock pressing against his still-clothed one.

He ripped his mouth away, gasping, “I thought we were going swimming.” But he didn’t stop moving his hips or stroking his hands over Jim’s warm skin.

“Do you really want to?” Jim asked, his eyes dancing with mirth. “Jump into that cold water?”

Leonard growled softly, almost a purr. “It was your idea.... I like to make my lovers happy, kid.” He slid his hands down to grip Jim’s ass and pull him tightly against Leonard’s cock. “If you’ve changed your mind... I could think of something else...”

Jim gave him a smoldering gaze, his eyes now heavy with lust. He slid his hand under the elastic of Leonard’s boxers and pushed them over the swell of his ass; they fluttered to the ground where he helpfully stepped out of them. Then, giving Leonard a final kiss, Jim turned and pulled Leonard with him. “Aiyeeee!” he yelled.

Startled, Leonard stumbled forward, barely keeping up with him. “JIM!” And they landed in the water.

Fortunately, the water wasn’t as cold as he’d first thought, but the shoreline dropped off quickly. Leonard’s head went under the water, and he swam up, sputtering when he broke the surface.

Jim was swimming around him as easily as an otter. “This feels great!” he exclaimed.

Leonard flailed for a minute, as he gained his equilibrium and began to float. He cupped his hand and splashed Jim before swimming closer. “You ass! What was that for?” he growled, but there was no heat behind his words. He found himself grinning and stretching in the water, enjoying the near weightless freedom.

Jim just grinned and swam a little further out. “Sorry about that, but I really wanted to get in the water. Feels good to do something other than sit on a horse.”

Leonard stretched his limbs and flipped, floating lazily on his back, his eyes half closed against the sun. “It feels good. I admit. But I owe you one. So just remember, when you least expect it.... Wham!”

Jim laughed. “I look forward to whatever you can dish out, old man.”

They floated and swam for a while, talking and laughing as they did. They swam further down the shore, looking at some of the overhanging trees and water plants. About a quarter of a mile down, they found that the shoreline extended out much further from a sandy beach.

Leonard nodded toward Jim, “C’mon. Let’s rest for a few minutes.” As his feet dragged the bottom, he stood, water sluicing off him as he walked up the beach, which was warm and dry. Dropping down onto it, he leant on his elbows and dropped his head back, his whole body relaxed and lethargic from the swim and ride. He was stretching long under-used muscles and it was enervating and yet exhilarating -- the contrast of all things Jim Kirk.

Jim flopped down beside him. “Have to confess I haven’t done that much swimming in a really long time. I’d forgotten how quickly it can tire you out if you’re not used to it,” he said. Leonard watched as he stretched his legs out in front of him. “Oops. Shrinkage.”

Leonard chuckled. “It did feel a might bit bigger than that earlier.” He shifted to his side and nudged Jim’s chin with his nose. They were close, he could feel Jim’s breath on his cheek. “Thanks, kid. I get so focused, I sometimes forget to stop working and just enjoy myself.” He leaned closer and pressed a soft kiss to Jim’s lips, didn’t deepen it before pulling back. “How’s the arm? I don’t want you to overdo.”

“It’s _fine_ , Bones. Really.” He cupped his hand around the back of Leonard’s neck, and leaned back, taking Leonard with him. “It’s fine.” He pulled Leonard closer. “I’m fine.”

Leonard blew out a soft breath as he shifted with Jim, resting most of his weight on one arm as he covered Jim with his body. “You’re more than fine, Jim. You’re gorgeous,” Leonard breathed before pressing their lips together. This kiss was anything but chaste and Leonard quickly deepened it, his tongue sweeping over Jim’s teeth, tasting as he pressed further, swallowing Jim’s soft moans. His free hand roamed, teased Jim’s nipple before slipping down to his hip and pulling it up, closer, pressing them together. Their cocks aligned and Leonard gasped, thrust forward, moans spilling from his lips.

Jim pushed his hips upward, encouraging Leonard to take his cock. “Bones,” he gasped, “Bones.”

“Oh, fuck, Jim.” Leonard shifted, tugging them around until he could reach them both. He panted and rested his forehead against Jim’s. “Goddamn, you make me crazy,” he blurted out before meeting Jim’s eyes. They were blown wide, dark, and Leonard felt himself fall, wondered if he was crazy, had some kind of jungle fever, but he didn’t care, couldn’t care, not when Jim was warm and thrusting against him, making the most wanton sounds Leonard had ever heard. He swallowed and bit his lip, gripped both their cocks and the world tilted.

As he worked their flesh in his palm, sparks flared behind his eyelids and Jim’s whimpers and thrusts into his hand had his climax coiling tightly, faster than he expected. He met Jim’s thrusts, their flesh sliding together, pre-come easing the push-pull until Leonard didn’t know up from down. Their lips met hungrily and Leonard swallowed Jim’s cry and matched it with his own as his climax slammed into him in a kaleidoscope of color and light.

Panting, Leonard groaned and laid back into the sand. “Oh my god, Jim,” he said. “The things you make me do.”

Jim huffed out a laugh. “I promise you, I do not habitually fuck in public.”

“Huh. Guess that’s changed.” Leonard murmured through a drowsy haze; his filters on his mouth were off as he lazed in the warm sand, post-coital lethargy affecting his limbs and mouth. He barely registered Jim tensing beside him.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Jim’s voice was hard, and Leonard’s eyes flew open to see Jim staring down at him, the crease between his eyes back and his full lips drawn tight.

Leonard flailed for a minute, tried to figure out what he’s done or said. Oh. _Oh._ “Shit!” Leonard sat up and reached for Jim. “I’m sorry, darlin’. I didn’t... that came out wrong.” He was babbling now and frantically trying not to make things worse.

Jim pushed his hand away, crossing his arms over his chest awkwardly. The bright blue cast made it difficult and his mutinous expression should have made Leonard more careful with his words, but his heart lurched. Jim was more gorgeous with hurt and anger flaring in his eyes.

“Just what the fuck, Bones?”

“Jim,” Leonard soothed. “I’m sorry... just... you wrecked me and my mouth tends to run wild.” He had a hand running along Jim’s arm, slowly working its way up to wrap around Jim’s shoulder to pull him closer.

Jim was still tense, but he didn’t pull away. “Just thought you were different. Saw more than the _‘reputation’_.”

Leonard sighed. “I am.” He reached up and turned Jim’s chin to face him. “I _am_ different than that, kid. Just heard so many rumors... guess I wondered... should have asked you about it instead of pretending I hadn’t heard.”

Jim blinked, his eyes softening as Leonard’s thumb stroked over his lips. He huffed out a frustrated breath. “Bones, I had hoped you...” He stopped and shook his head.

“What, Jim?” Leonard prodded softly as he shifted and pulled Jim between his legs. He ignored the sand and come pressing into his chest as he wrapped an arm around Jim’s waist.

Jim relaxed, his head dropping against Leonard’s shoulder. “I hoped you saw me as more than just a pretty face... or a tight ass.”

Leonard frowned as he pressed his lips against Jim’s ear. Jim honestly didn’t know what Leonard saw in him. “Do you know what I saw when I first looked at you, Jim? I saw this brilliant shining star. This hotshot archaeologist that was going to bury me. I was angry and jealous.” Jim shifted uncomfortably and Leonard held him tighter against his chest as he continued with his whispered but heartfelt words.

“Then you charmed your way into my staffs’ hearts, proving yourself repeatedly. I could see that you were the real deal, whip smart and so focused. Then you show up at that fundraiser looking like some goddamn model. I just didn’t know how to deal with it all...I didn’t know whether to punch you or kiss you.” Leonard chuckled. “And I hated that guy... Vasily... what the hell was his name?”

“Oleg?” Jim added helpfully.

Leonard growled. “Yeah. That asshole.”

“Bones...” Jim tried to interrupt, but nothing was stopping Leonard.

“Fuck, Jim. I’m sorry. Just... this is...”

Leonard only stopped when Jim pressed their lips together. The angle was awkward, but Jim was insistent, warm and pressing firmly against Leonard.

The kiss was short and hard and left Leonard breathless. When Leonard opened his eyes, Jim was smiling at him. “Overwhelming?” Jim asked, a bit unsure.

Leonard blinked and nodded as slow realization dawned. “Yeah, kid. It is. Hell, you push my buttons...” Before Jim could say anything, Leonard continued, “In a good way, even if you do talk me into having sex in public!” He finished with a growl, but the smile on his face was bright. He only hoped Jim understood how hard this was for him.

Jim kissed him again and leaned into arms. “I get it. Thanks, Bones. Just... it’s fuckin’ hard to be dismissed just because of my looks. And, before you say one thing, I might have a ‘reputation’, but none of it was deserved. I let people think what they wanted, that they had a piece of me... like Oleg, but the reality is they got nothing but a smile.”

Leonard whispered into Jim’s ear, “That include Dean Cartwright’s wife?”

Jim elbowed him in the ribs and Leonard laughed. “I was only teasing, darlin’. That woman’s a barracuda. I’m thankful I could avoid her. So we’ll just keep it our little secret that I only want you for your brain. Wouldn’t want to confuse the rumor mill.”

“Bones.” Jim’s glare was cold, but the smirk on his lips told Leonard that he was forgiven, that they were okay.

Leonard held up his hands. “What? You want me to tell everyone the opposite? That it _is_ just your ass I want?”

“Dammit, Bones.”

Leonard kissed Jim, smiles tugging at their lips, but Leonard was happy, relaxed, except for the sand and the pricking of the sun in sensitive places. “We should probably go... I don’t relish the idea of my dick getting sunburned.”

“That’s too painful to contemplate, man.”

“Wanna race back?”

Jim was on his feet in a flash. “You’re on!” And with that he ran for the water and splashed in. “Let’s go, old man.”

Leonard followed, determined to show Jim just what he could do. He might not have grown up on the beach, but Leonard was a strong swimmer, had spent countless hours at his aunt’s summer home, most of it in the water or riding, idyllic days just like this one. He raced after Jim, dove into the water and set the pace, long strokes gaining on Jim.

They reached their original site at roughly the same time, after slowing to swim at a more leisurely pace. Climbing up out of the water, they used their t-shirts to dry off and dress. “Bet you wish you’d worn underwear now,” Leonard said, as he bent over to tie his boots.

Jim shrugged. “Not going to be the first time I’ve done this. Grew up on a beach, then spent so many summers at the watering hole in Iowa. I’ll live.” Jim stopped and moved closer, his eyes rooting Leonard to the spot.

Jim reached for him, tugged him close, and then Jim was kissing him, firm, needy, still hungry. When he pulled away, Jim’s lips were wet, shiny, and red. “You look relaxed... happy. I hope I had something to do with that, Bones, ‘cause it’s a good look on you.”

“Kid, you have everything to do with this,” Leonard said. He kissed Jim quickly, and then squeezed his hand. “I think we need to get going. But just so you know, I wish we’d had more time. This was nice.”

The hint of insecurity faded from Jim’s eyes and his smile shone bright with completely unadulterated happiness. He wanted to make Jim smile like that more often.


	5. CHAPTER 5

By the time Jim and Leonard returned to camp, it was late afternoon. The ride up on horseback had been much more enjoyable than riding in the old Land Rover in Leonard’s opinion. The mare was happy to climb the steep trail at a slow pace, and stepped easily around the large potholes, rocks and logs. At least this way he didn’t feel like he was going to lose a tooth or be thrown from his seat. Despite his preference, his legs were beginning to cramp from being on the horse for several hours, unused to riding as he was. He couldn’t wait to get off the beast. He rubbed his thighs, trying to bring some relief to the aching muscles.

“You all right, Bones?”

Jim was smiling at him. “It’s gonna be a rough night, I think,” Leonard groaned. “It’s been ages since I’ve been in the saddle for this long.”

“Me, too.” Jim twisted in his saddle. “Wow, I’ll never get over how beautiful the mountains and forests are on this side of the lake. I hope this end never gets developed like the north side has.”

Leonard turned to admire the view. Their excavation sat at nearly seven thousand feet above sea level, the lush, nearly untouched forest spread out before them. But several miles to the north, he could see the line that demarcated the edge of timbering. It wouldn’t be long before the pristine southern end of Lake Toba would be in danger of the same overdevelopment as the north shore. He resolved talk to Spock and the cultural ministry about designating their excavation a world heritage site. Maybe he’d try to get the forest around the excavation included to preserve it.

“Look at that,” Jim said, pointing off to the west. A storm was gathering and headed in their direction; the clouds were so packed with rain and energy they were that ominous greenish-black color. “It’s gonna be another gully washer.”

“Well, let’s hope like hell it’s not,” Leonard replied fervently. “I’m used to it raining every day, but not at hurricane strength. Gidd’up, you.” He clicked and gave the horse a sharp nudge to get it moving again.

Just below the camp there was a little meadow and a small shed that had been built for sheltering horses; they dismounted there, tying them to a post but within reach of the sweet grass. Leonard and Jim stamped around in the soft ground and rubbed the thigh muscles, trying to bring some feeling back into their rubbery, aching legs. They laughed at each other, especially after Jim tripped and fell. “Between the swimming and the riding, I’m a mess,” Jim chortled, as Leonard hauled him up by his armpits.

“I’m not much better,” Leonard admitted.

After tending to the horses’ needs and stashing the saddles under a tarp in the shed, they walked the final quarter mile up to the camp, their arms swinging. Jim caught Leonard’s hand in his; Leonard couldn’t help but smile at such a simple gesture. “All right, Bones?” Jim asked.

He ducked his head. “Yeah, I am,” Leonard replied. “I enjoyed the ride with you.”

“The horses or the one on the beach?” Jim waggled his eyebrows.

Leonard barked a laugh. “Hard to say.”

Jim caught him in a one-armed hug. “Just wait til I can get you alone again,” he whispered in Leonard’s ear. “I can’t wait to feel you inside me, feel you fucking me into tomorrow....”

Leonard coughed at Jim’s words. Yeah, he’d been thinking about that, too, over the past week. It was impossible to do everything he wanted in a tent that was surrounded by six other equally thin-walled tents. They’d managed some quietly epic make-out sessions, and hand and blow jobs. One time, the night watch heard Leonard groan after Jim had sucked him off spectacularly and stopped outside the tent to ask if he was all right. Jim had had to bury his head between Leonard’s thighs to stifle the laughter. And didn’t that throw cold water on their future sexual activities? He wanted Jim in a proper bed and in a real room with thick walls so he could be as loud as he wanted; he wanted to make Jim _scream_ , and be made to scream in return. . . .

As they approached the camp, Leonard immediately took note of the deep silence. It was nearing dinner time so the camp should have been a literal beehive of activity. But no one was walking around; there was no aroma of spicy native foods to make his mouth water; there were no sounds of shovels hitting dirt or people singing as they carried stones away from the excavation of the above-ground buildings. There was no smoke rising from the ever-lit fire outside the mess tent on which they boiled water and warmed their food. From all signs, the site was abandoned.

“Hey, whose truck is that?” Jim asked.

Leonard stopped. “Don’t know.” The large pick-up truck sitting just off the trail was not one he’d ever seen. There were a few double-cab trucks in the village, but most were affiliated with government agencies and had official plates and logos on them. This one was a more recent model.

“Does it look familiar to you?”

“No, never seen it before.”

Leonard leant in to look at the interior of the cab. It wasn’t especially messy, though he noticed a couple of unfolded maps and some pieces of paper on the front seat. Then he looked into the back compartment, and that’s where he saw a shotgun and a box of shells.

The hairs on the back of his neck prickled and he broke out in a cold sweat. A powerful wave of deja vu swept through him. “Shhh! Jim, stop,” he said in a low voice, as Jim started up the trail again.

Jim came to stand beside him. “What?”

He pointed. “Look.”

Jim started, but relaxed. “Bones, we’re in a rural area,” he said. “People out here have guns. It’s just the way it is.”

Leonard pulled him down around the other side of the truck. “I know that! But have you ever seen _this_ truck? The diner people only ever drive that ancient Ford. This is a pretty new Chevy.”

“But it could be someone else who’s making a delivery.”

“I’ve got a bad feeling about this, Jim.”

Jim rolled his eyes. “C’mon, not everything is a conspiracy.”

“All I’m saying is let’s be cautious,” Leonard said. “That fact that I’m not hearing anything is worrisome. There are no sounds of people getting ready for dinner or digging. The sun’s still up, Jim. The Batak diggers would still be singing.”

Jim’s eyebrows shot up. “You’re right,” he said, surprised. “God, I hadn’t even noticed.” After a moment’s thought, he continued. “All right. Let’s check at the main tent first, and then we’ll go to ours.”

Having made a plan, they looked around carefully, then strode silently the rest of the way up the trail to the dining tent; the sides tied to the poles that held it up. Jim motioned to Leonard to stand aside as he untied one of the ropes, and looked inside. “No one in there,” he mouthed.

They ducked down and ran quietly to their tent, which was the closest to the main one. Not seeing anyone around, they opened the back zip of the tent, and went inside. “The guns, Bones,” Jim said quietly. “Where is the gun box?”

The box holding the firearms was under his duffel bag, near his bed. Leonard hated that locked box, still heard both Jim’s and Chris’ stinging rebukes when he’d argued against having any weapons on hand, hated it all the more because they were right. He had agreed to the security guards because he knew that they’d be too vulnerable without them and he’d already experienced just how brutal robbers could be, so logically he knew that they needed the firearms. But it didn’t mean he had to like having the damn things around. And, yes, he was an oddity, born and raised with a gun in his hand, he’d never shied away from hunting, from shooting, from target practice, but all that had changed. Yet another thing ripped from him when he was staring down the barrel of a gun and had to listen to the report of those shots as they hit his friends and destroyed more lives than his own.

But right now, he was very glad he’d been brow-beaten into bringing it. Leonard lifted the duffel off of the nondescript, locked box and placed it on his cot. He carefully removed the ring of keys from his pocket and found the one to the large padlock. Putting the key in and wincing at the “snick” as the lock fell open, he slowly removed it from the loops. The box held four guns, all semi-automatic, with multiple clips filled and ready to be used.

Leonard handed Jim two of the guns and a wide canvas belt with clip pockets on it. He slipped another belt around his waist and holstered two of the guns. Standing up straighter, he adjusted the guns in the holsters. “Wait,” Jim mouthed, his hand on Leonard’s arm. “Sat phone?”

Leonard looked around for the yellow box containing the phone. He kept it under his cot, along with color-coded artifact boxes. It was a mish-mash of color, unless you knew what to look for. Leonard moved boxes aside, but then he remembered: “Christine has it,” he whispered. “Damn!”

Jim scowled, but then made a ‘watch me, follow me’ gesture, and just as quietly as they entered, they exited the tent.

They looked around the sides, listening closely for any sign of life. The forest behind them usually teemed with the soft twittering of birds and scratchings in the underbrush, but right now, it was deathly quiet. Leonard knew this part of the mountain was home to many animals, though they seemed to have been held at bay by the expedition team’s activity and fastidious care to clear the site of all food and trash. There were many creatures that had encroached on their territory, much to the delight of all; a family of mitered leaf monkeys had taken up residence nearby and everyone enjoyed their antics, though the crew were careful not to feed them. The night watch had reported sightings of several large cat species, as well as some wild boars, none had come into the immediate vicinity. It was unusual to not hear anything from the dense trees.

Here and now, Leonard strained to hear any sign of human activity. And that’s when it hit him: the generator was not running.

He flapped a hand to get Jim’s attention, and when he did, he pointed to the cellar site and the now-silent generator. Jim’s eyes widened in understanding, and then he saw the first of their uninvited visitors.

He came out of the trees on the far side of the site, carrying a rifle. He didn’t seem particularly on edge from the casual gait and the way he held the firearm. He was dressed in jeans and a dirty t-shirt, so he wasn’t part of any official military group, which chilled Leonard’s blood. These were robbers, bandits--people out to steal their artifacts. They tracked his movement to the cellar opening, where he then stood and looked around.

Jim came over to Leonard. “Over by the cellar, Bones,” he whispered. “Going over there and taking that guy down.”

“Wait!” Leonard said, taking Jim’s arm. “Let’s draw him over here. Two against one.”

Jim looked back over at the man, and then around. Jim’s face split into a wide smile, and he nodded, giving him a thumbs-up.

Leonard took a shaky breath in, despite the display of bravado, and looked around for some sort of lure. Ah! He spotted a dry branch in the underbrush at the edge of the forest clearing. He pulled it over and behind the row of tents where he wouldn’t be seen. Giving Jim a smile, he then broke the branch over his thigh, and it gave it loud _crack_.

The guard looked up suddenly, and drew his weapon up close. He said something in Batak that Leonard didn’t catch, but at Jim’s smile, realized that Jim had. Jim nodded once, and withdrew one of the guns from the holster.

Leonard looked around the edge of the tent, and saw the man walking towards them. He drew back his head, and looked down at the ground as he laid his right hand on the gun, and slowly undid the safety. As the man drew closer, Leonard slid closer to the corner of the tent, and then saw Jim was giving him a three-finger countdown and a tossing motion. Leonard looked at his hand; he was still holding the stick.

“ _Who’s there?_ ” the man said. “ _Show yourself_.” He was at the tents and walking in between them.

Jim gave Leonard the high sign, and then Leonard tossed the stick back into the forest.

A quiet “snick” of the safety being released, and the man was nearly there. “ _Who’s there?_ ” he said again.

Jim gave Leonard an intense gaze and nodded his head, and pointed to himself and gave him a sign-- _I’m going around the tent._ And then he tip-toed around the far end of the tent, and disappeared from Leonard’s view.

Leonard felt a trickle of sweat down the side of his face, and his breath growing more shallow and rapid. He could hold his own in a fight, but with firearms involved? That took it to an entirely different level, and he wasn’t sure what he was going to do.

Jim completely took any decision out of his hands, as he heard an “Oof” and a thud as the man fell forward. Leonard reacted quickly, kicking the rifle from the man’s hands as Jim pounced on him. The man struggled briefly, but as he shouted one word, Jim hit him on the head with the butt of his gun. The man went limp immediately.

Leonard dropped to his knee, and checked the bleeding wound on the back of the man’s head and his pulse. “Jesus! Did you have to hit him so hard?” Leonard whispered frantically.

“Yeah, I did,” Jim said. “Is there any duct tape in our supplies?”

Leonard nodded, rose, and jogged quickly back towards their tent to where he knew there were some tools and a few rolls of the heavy tape. He retrieved one and ran back to where Jim was still sitting on the prone man. He was looking through the man’s wallet.

“Look at this. He’s from Medan,” Jim says quietly, handing the man’s identification to Leonard, who handed him the roll of duct tape.

“Hm. Interesting. Deng Ramelanputra, yes?”

“Yeah. Our Ramelan and this one are from the same tribe,” Jim replied as he taped his prisoner’s hands. Jim rose up and off of him and then rolled him over. “Not sure how connected they are, but it is suspicious.” He ripped off another piece of tape and placed it over the man’s mouth. He looked around. “Let’s drag him over there. We’ll tape his feet and legs together and then tape him to a tree.”

Having secured their prisoner to a tree deep in the forest, they returned to the tents. “Ok, Bones. We need to find out what’s happened to everyone else.”

At that moment, they heard a voice from the cellar. “Don’t rush me, you asshole,” Christine said irritably, as her head emerged. She was climbing up one of the three ladders they had constructed when they started working in the site. “And stop poking me with that goddamn thing!”

Leonard and Jim looked at each other, concern lacing their eyes. They turned back and saw that she was now out of the cellar, and Ramelan, their security officer, was holding a gun on her. “Fuck!” Leonard hissed.

“Shh!” Jim whispered, holding his finger to his lips.

Next, Sulu and Chekov came up out of the cellar, their hands tied behind their backs, and were followed by two more men, both of whom they didn’t recognize as being part of the dig. Leonard began to fret for the safety of their Batak diggers and the other Indonesian archaeologists; he figured they were still in the cellar or released into the forest. But that couldn’t be right because they would’ve seen someone by now. _Damnit! How many bad guys were there??_

Jim motioned to him again and pointed to the forest. They crouched down low and made their way back into the dense dark. At that moment, the sky gave an ominous rumble, and Leonard heard the first splashes of rain on the leaves and the ground.

“Shit, I’d forgotten about the storm,” he said once they were well away from the site.

“It’s perfect, though,” Jim said, rubbing the back of his neck. He pointed towards his left and started walking. “It’ll be a good cover once we get to the other side of the site.”

“First thing we need to do is find that damn sat phone so we can call for some backup. Goddammit! I can’t believe Ramelan is with them. He betrayed us!”

“Me either.”

“I mean, I thought Spock had vetted all those guys carefully, thought they all had worked for the museum system for a long time. That’s what Chahaya told me, that they’d worked together in the national security forces and then worked for the cultural ministry.”

“I’m shocked, too,” Jim said, “but it appears even Ramelan has his price.” They walked in silence, keeping an eye on the underbrush to make sure they didn’t step on any branches or trip on anything. Even though they were well away from the edge of the forest, they did not want to do anything to jeopardize their position.

So focused on their immediate footfall, they did not see the animal watching their approach until they were almost upon it. Jim looked up in time to see it: a large, _gorgeous_ Sumatran tiger was sitting off to their left.

“Holy shit!” Leonard exclaimed, jumping back.

“Shh!” Jim hissed, holding onto Leonard’s arm. “Shh!”

The tiger blinked lazily and huffed several deep breaths, growling low as it did. It appeared to be at ease, but twitched its tail agitatedly.

“Ok,” Jim said softly. “Bones, stay right here. Don’t move until I give you a sign.”

“Jim, what are you---”

“Just do it.”

Jim walked carefully past the tiger’s position. He was relaxed and fluid in his motion, making soft noises that sounded almost like “Kitty, kitty, kitty”, as one might call a domestic cat, but it was in Batak. Then, Jim stopped and crouched in front of the large mammal as he began to sing.

The tiger continued to breathe heavily for several heart-stopping seconds, but then it rubbed its ears and face with one gigantic paw, and made some contented noises. Jim waved his hand behind his back, motioning Leonard to move forward. Leonard slowly started walking away, his eyes never leaving Jim. Jim fell to his knees as he continued singing in a low voice a sweet, melodious tune, much like a children’s song Leonard had learnt in his Indonesian language classes and had taught to Joanna. Jim then spread his arms before the tiger, his palms up and hands as if in supplication, and bowed his head. The tiger blinked again, then laid its large head down on the forest floor and rolled over onto its side. It gave one more growl, which sounded more like a sigh of pleasure and closed its eyes.

Jim slowly rose from his knees, but kept his body bent and low, and began to move very slowly backwards, all the while singing the tune over and over. Leonard kept up a slow pace too, his eyes darting between Jim, the tiger, and where he put his foot. Slowly, they moved away from the relaxed cat, and then when they were out of its sight, they broke into a quick trot.

“Jesus Christ, Jim,” Leonard breathed, taking Jim’s arm. “Scared the hell outta me.”

“Yeah, me too.” He gave Leonard a tight smile.

“What was that you were singing?”

“Song I learnt as a kid. It’s about the tiger being the most beautiful creature in the jungle, about how feared he is and how much we revere him. Mostly, it’s just a hypnotic tune.”

“Had any experience singing it to a tiger before?”

“Nope. First time.”

Leonard rolled his eyes. “Fucking hell. You are one lucky bastard.”

“That I am.”

They picked up the pace, knowing they’d lost time making obeisance to the tiger; Leonard kept looking over his shoulder nervously.

Finally, they came to the other side and began to make their way carefully closer into the excavation site. The rain was pelting straight down now, soaking everyone through. At first they could not see members of their team; a second later, Jim saw Sulu tied to a tree nearby. He appeared to be alone; the men with the firearms were talking to Christine and Chekov. Chekov had his head bent down as the man was yelling at him. Christine yelled back at him in Batak, and then Ramelan pushed her hard. She stumbled but didn’t fall; the rain was coming down harder and soaking all of them through to the skin. Leonard held his breath, praying that he wouldn’t hit her or, worse, shoot her for her insubordination. Ramelan did neither, but he then turned his attention to her.

 _”You will tell us where Dr. McCoy has put the golden statues and the jewelry pieces,”_ he said, poking the gun in her side.

 _”And I’ve been telling you those artifacts have been sent to the museum. Every time Dr. Spock comes in the truck, we send the most fragile and valuable pieces with him to be flown out of Medan to Jakarta for safe-keeping. You know that!”_

 _”No, no. I saw you with the statues just yesterday. Dr. McCoy did not send them yet.”_

 _”They were sent this morning,_ you asshole,” Christine said, switching to English. “You’re a goddamn fool for not paying attention.” She wiped her dripping hair out of her face as she smiled grimly.

While the discussion was going on, Jim and Leonard dropped to all fours and slowly crawled towards Sulu. At the mention of the statues, they looked at each other. They knew they had not put the gold pieces in the Land Rover. There were other items that had higher priority due to their fragility. But Leonard had not stored them in his tent; it was too obvious a place. He had put them in one of the food storage hampers in the mess tent. He had told no one, not even Jim.

Jim mouthed, “In our tent?”

Leonard shook his head. Then Ramelan shouted and waved the gun in her face. _”Tell me where the pieces are!”_

Christine balled her fists up and screamed back at him. The two other armed men who were with him moved closer to her; they were yelling at her, too.

Jim moved quickly towards the tree where Sulu was tied up, while Leonard stayed rooted to the spot. “Bones,” Jim whispered, looking back at him. “C’mon.”

But Leonard couldn’t move. All he could see was Christine fighting with Ramelan and the other gun-wielding men: the guns becoming magnified, larger, more menacing, more threatening as he continued to stare. He saw red--blood red, glassy eyes, tears on a dirty face, a heaving chest, blood blooming across Jillian’s khaki shirt as she took her final breath. . . silence. . . .

Jim’s face swam before his. “Bones, look at me,” he said evenly.

Leonard lifted his eyes to Jim’s blue ones. “Bones, that is _not_ her. Christine is not Jillian.”

“I know, but..,” he began helplessly.

“No buts. Act now, think later. I _need_ you, Bones. Christine needs you to focus and get her out of this. Can you do that? If you can’t, I swear to God, I understand. I really do. You can stay here.” Jim’s eyes blazed. “But if you’re with me, _be_ with me.”

That shook Leonard to the core. Christine and Chekov needed him, they needed _him_ to be strong for them. It would not end like it had before. _By God, no, it will not._ He took a deep, shuddering breath as he shook his head, clearing his mind of the disturbing images and feelings from so long ago. This time, it would end differently. “Ok, let’s go,” he whispered, determined.

Jim nodded. “Come with me.”

Christine’s screaming still filled his ears. As long as she was screaming, she was alive, and Leonard was not going to allow her to stop being alive. He followed Jim as they crab-walked quickly through the underbrush and then reach the tree where Sulu was tied.

“Sulu,” Jim hissed as he smashed himself to the backside of the tree. “It’s me. Don’t move.”

Leonard shifted to Sulu’s right and arranged himself behind a tree, looking at him. “Jim’s gonna cut you free,” he whispered, “but don’t move.”

Sulu gave him a smile, but did not look at him or give any other indication that he had heard. Leonard watched as Jim cut the rope; Sulu’s arms didn’t move.

Christine stopped screaming, but then her tone turned to pleading. Leonard dropped down into the underbrush to watch what had changed. Ramelan was pointing his gun at Chekov’s head. _”Now, Miss Christine, do you wish to have me blow this boy’s head off? Because that is what will happen if you do not tell me what has happened to the statues.”_

“ _No, please,_ she said, her voice trembling in fear for the first time. ” _I swear to you, I do not know what happened to them. All I know is that Dr. McCoy took them after I photographed and catalogued them two days ago. I’m sure he put them on the transport for the museum this morning. He would not have kept them on site._ ”

As the rain came down harder, Christine kept on talking to Ramelan. She stood in between him and Chekov, placing her hand on Ramelan’s arm, speaking in a measured, clear voice. That instilled much more confidence in Leonard; he smiled at how brave she was, and his heart swelled.

“ _Then we will go and look in Dr. McCoy’s tent,_ ” Ramelan said. ” _If I find evidence to the contrary, I will tell Supp here to kill Chekov, yes?_ ”

“ _I swear to you, the gold pieces are not there,_ ” she said, as Ramelan pushed her along in front of him. “ _We can look in Len and Jim’s tent, but he. . . ._ ” Her voice trailed off as they moved away from the cellar and the sound was swallowed up by the pelting rain.

Jim looked at Leonard and nodded. It was now the three of them against their two. In tandem, they unholstered their guns, and stood. Jim was holding a long, stout stick in his hand. He counted down, and then, they began walking very quickly towards Chekov and his two captors. As they passed Sulu, he turned and walked with them as Jim tossed him the stick.

The three of them came out of the shelter of the trees and rushed towards the two men. Sulu, the more nimble of them, hit the man called Supp with the stick. It twirled so fast it was almost a blur, but he disarmed the man quickly and pinned him, grinding his face into the mud. Leonard and Jim rushed to the other man, who had seen them coming, and he whirled around, trying to get to Chekov. Jim leapt forward and caught the man by the neck, and they slipped in a mud puddle. With a yelp, the man ducked his head and Jim fell off. His arm whipped around, and in a flash, he smashed his gun across Jim’s nose and then levelled it in front of Leonard. _”Don’t move!”_ he shouted.

Leonard, acting purely on instinct, raised his gun, a semi-automatic Beretta to the man’s chest. “Jim, are you all right?” he asked, frantic.

Jim groaned, but then he jumped up and jammed his weapon into the back of the man’s head. “Yeah, shit. THAT HURT!! _You’re outgunned, asshole,_ ” Jim said harshly. “ _Do not make me kill you. Or, I may just kill you for hurting me!_ Motherfucker!” Blood poured from Jim’s nose.

“ _You are just an archaeologist,_ ” the man scoffed. “ _You don’t have the courage to kill me._ ”

“ _Oh, yeah? Well, where is Deng Ramelanputra, eh? Do you see him around here?”_ Leonard continued to hold his gun steadily at the man as Jim taunted him. _”No, you don’t. Dr. McCoy and I have taken care of him. I imagine the great tiger will have eaten him by now. Oh, so that makes you nervous, yes? Have you not seen the tiger that lives in these trees? Well, you will._ ” Jim jammed the gun into the man’s neck. “ _Lower your gun now._ ”

The man dropped his gun, and Leonard stooped to pick it up. As he did, Chekov ran towards him, and Leonard pulled his knife from its sheath and cut through the ropes binding the young man’s hands behind him. He handed Chekov the now muddy gun. “Know how to handle one of these, kid?”

“Yes, I do,” Chekov said, checking it over. “In Russia, children who live in the country know how to shoot. My uncle taught me from very young age.”

“Well, that’s just peachy. You keep an eye on this guy.”

He then walked over to Jim who was bending over, gingerly feeling his nose. “You ok?” he said softly.

“Fuck, man, it really hurts.” Jim looked up at Leonard; his bright blue eyes stood out brilliantly from the muddy face and bloody nose and chin.

Leonard looked at it carefully. “Well, it’s really broken. You’ll have to have it set.

He walked over to where Sulu was holding the other man in a choke hold, and squatted. “Y’all right, Sulu?”

“No problems here, except our friend wants to shout to his buddy,” Sulu said, giving the stick a vicious push which made Supp wince as his face went further into the mud. He spluttered and muttered an angry oath. “Yeah, just try it, you fucker,” Sulu said.

Leonard pulled the roll of duct tape out of a pocket on his belt. “Lemme help with that,” he said, ripping off a length. “Come on. We’ll tape him to a tree. I think we’ll put him just a little deeper into the woods so no one will come looking for him. Jim, come on.”

Having secured Supp and the other man to the tree with tape and rope, they returned. “So, what do we do--” Leonard began.

They could hear Christine and Ramelan talking loudly. Then there was a yell of triumph. “Well, how the hell was I supposed to know that?” they heard Christine yell in response.

The two came out of the mess tent, and Ramelan was holding one of the golden statues. He spotted Jim and Leonard, and put the gun to Christine’s head. “ _Dr. McCoy! I will shoot her if you do not drop your guns. NOW!_ ” he shouted at them.

Jim and Leonard looked at each other. “ _How do we know you won’t shoot her anyway?_ ” Jim shouted back.

Ramelan pushed her forward but kept holding the gun to her back. “ _Dr. Jim, I do not wish to hurt her, but I will if you and Dr. McCoy do not do as I say and release my men._ ”

Leonard dropped his gun, and then the belt from around his waist. _”Ramelan, I don’t know what we did to piss you off, but there is no need for anyone to get hurt here,”_ he said.

“ _Yes, of course. Dr. Jim, drop your belt please,_ ” Ramelan said. “ _It is not a matter of anger, Dr. McCoy. I simply wish to profit from these findings. This will bring a lot of money for me and my family._ ”

But Jim did not do as he asked. He stood his ground and pointed his gun even as Ramelan wrapped his free arm around Christine’s neck. “ _There’s nowhere for you to go,_ ” Jim said in a calm voice. “ _If it’s money you need, I can get you that. Whatever you need. However much it takes. But we cannot allow you to sell these items. They don’t belong to you. They don’t belong to me, or Dr. McCoy or anyone here._ ” He continued his soft recitation as he moved closer. The rain was still coming down and the mud was getting deeper. Leonard looked up the hill and saw a stream of liquified mud spilling over the edge of the main dig site. It had obviously filled with water and was threatening to let loose at any moment.

“ _These artifacts that we find belong to history; they belong to your people. Jepptha Ramelanputra, these statues are part of who your tribe is. You are Toba Batak, yes? Well, they are part of your heritage, Jepptha._ ”

Leonard was starting to get a little nervous, what with the rain, the mud, the disappearance of their colleagues and the gun held to Christine’s head. “Jim,” he said quietly. “Jim, please.”

“I got this,” Jim said to him, but still continued to hold the gun and to walk slowly towards Christine and her captor.

But from behind them came a shout. Three heads came up out of the cellar, two were their Batak diggers and the third, the Museum Nasional assistant archaeologist, Kavi. “We have overcome the guard below!” she said triumphantly.

Sulu and Chekov ran immediately to them to help them off of the ladders. Two more diggers emerged, and one of the older curators from the regional museum in Medan climbed up as well. He started to tell them about what was going on.

Then, Leonard realized his and Jim’s attentions had been redirected. Suddenly, Jim found himself holding an armful of Christine; her forward motion knocked both of them into the mud and they slid down the hillside some. Leonard whirled around, and in dismay, saw Ramelan sprinting away.

“Bones, go after him!” Jim cried as he and Christine wrestled around trying to pull each other up.

Leonard picked up his mud-covered gun and took off after the fleeing Ramelan. He was nowhere to be seen, but Leonard noticed that the flap to the mess tent was open.

Quickly he ran to the tent and ducked around the opening. He carefully looked inside and saw Ramelan picking up a canvas bag. “Stop!” Leonard called. A shot rang out and whizzed past his face. “Jesus Christ!” he exclaimed. “Ramelan, stop!”

In response, another shot sounded and the bullet buried into the mud, splattering Leonard. Then, he heard a ripping sound. He hazarded another peek and saw that Ramelan had split the back of the tent with his knife and ran through the hole.

Leonard took off around the tent after him. He slid the safety off of the Beretta and fired after the fleeing man. Ramelan ran past the truck and was now heading down the mountain.

With night coming on and the clouds of the rainstorm giving no quarter, the light was fading quickly. Leonard didn’t know how the hell he was going to catch up to Ramelan; his legs felt stiff from the ride on the horse all afternoon, but he pushed through the pain and made himself run. Ramelan was easily ten years older and not in terrific shape so, by that alone, he could get him. But the security officer proved he would happily shoot that gun of his.

Leonard came around the rear of the tent just in time to see the light-colored canvas back disappear around the bend in the path. He turned off the trail and headed into the trees where the rain wasn’t coming down as heavily. The crew had taken this shortcut many times so there was the beginnings of a narrow path in the underbrush. He shifted the gun to his right hand and picked up speed as he headed downhill.

He burst out of the forest just as Ramelan reached his position. They collided and fell to the opposite side of the trail. Leonard rolled and stood just as quickly as he’d gone down; in the collision, both had lost their weapons.

Ramelan rolled over a second time and then got into a crouch. He aimed low and, running, caught Leonard about the hips, knocking them both into the mud.

“Dammit,” Leonard muttered. He smacked Ramelan on the back of the head. It was enough to get the man to break his hold on him. Leonard rolled him over and drew back his fist enough to land a solid right into the man’s jaw.

Ramelan swore and rolled them both over by grabbing Leonard’s shirt. Ramelan might have had better training, but Leonard had longer legs and was able leverage himself into a half-standing position. Unfortunately, that’s when Ramelan caught him on the temple with a rock held in his hand.

Leonard staggered as pain exploded in his right eye; blood gushed from the wound and he felt himself sinking into a black hole. But he shook his head and looked frantically around for the other man. He pulled his knife out of the sheath and began half-blindly slashing around him.

Ramelan grunted, and managed to remain out of the range of Leonard’s knife. Blood was running freely into Leonard’s eye, making the search for his gun all that much harder. Which was why he didn’t see Ramelan come up beside him and hit him in the side with the rock again.

“SHIT!” Leonard shouted, enraged. He felt the warmth of the other man, and plunged the knife deeply into his flesh.

Ramelan howled and twisted away from him. “ _Hurts, doesn’t it?_ ” Leonard yelled. “ _It hurts, and it makes you bleed, and--_ ”

The man hit again, this time in his knee and taking his legs out from under him, but not before Leonard reached up and got hold of Ramelan’s belt and pulled with him into the mud. They rolled around until Leonard found purchase on a downed tree and stood shakily.

And as he did he found himself looking down the barrel of Ramelan’s muddy gun.

“ _Dr. McCoy, I really do not wish to shoot you, but you leave me no choice,_ ” Ramelan said, breathing heavily and clutching his bleeding side.

Leonard felt time around him narrow to that gaping yawn of the dark barrel. Images of Jillian and Brad flashed before his eyes, their desperate agonizing cries as bullets tore through flesh and bone, red blooming in his mind’s eye. He could feel the warmth of Jillian’s blood on his hands, his face, seeping into his shirt as he pulled her dying body to his.

And then all of a sudden, Ramelan. . . _simply wasn’t there_. The dark barrel of the gun in his face was gone. But in its place was the grey of the rain, the deep brown of the mud, and the black, gold and cream splendor of a crouching Sumatran tiger. As it stood over Ramelan’s prone body, it roared in Ramelan’s face, white teeth glowing in the twilight. The crunch of tooth on bone rent through the curtain of rain as the tiger bit into the man’s neck and shoulder; blood geysered, meeting rain, and Ramelan screamed for just a second before he fell silent.

“Bones! Jesus, what are you--” he heard Jim shout. Then as few seconds later, he felt Jim’s arms around him, pulling him away from the awful scene. “Bones,” Jim whispered frantically in his ear. “Bones, come on.”

That shook him out of his reverie, and they backed away. For several steps they kept their eyes on the tiger, who continued to maul the body under it. They turned and ran as quickly as Leonard’s injured knee would allow, Jim pulling him along by the hand; they didn’t stop until they reached the camp. He heard Jim shouting orders to Santoso, the remaining ministry security guard, to secure the camp and to get everyone available into the mess tent.

Jim pulled him inside and sat him on a bench. It was only then that Leonard noticed Jim had the canvas bag, dripping with mud, in his hand. He set it gently on the ground beside him, then crouched in front of Leonard, taking both hands in his. “Bones,” Jim said quietly, “Leonard, you’ve got a helluva wound over your right eye. Anywhere else hurt?”

Leonard shook his head, and stammered, “No. No, I’m fine. Yes, I mean, on my side--my knee-- I just--”

“You did great,” Jim said, his face lighting up in a brilliant smile. “You were fantastic.”

“No, I froze. I fucking froze, Jim,” he said. “Ramelan pointed that gun and I couldn’t do a goddamn thing.” He wiped his bleeding face again with shaking hands.

“Well, in this case, our friend the tiger took care of you. Jesus Christ, when I saw that tiger flying across the trail and in front of you--shit, man, from my perspective, it looked like it was going for you,” Jim said, squeezing Leonard’s hands tightly. “My heart stopped beating. I swear it did. I’m so glad it didn’t get you.”

The tent flaps opened. “Len! Oh my God, LEN!” Christine shrieked. She came in and fell to her knees and wrapped her arms around him. She was shaking hard. “Oh, God, all I could see was Ramelan pointing that fucking gun at you and you not moving and--oh, God, _you’re’ hurt_. Jim, we gotta take care of this!”

Leonard and Jim wrapped their arms about her as she continued to babble; Jim pushed her up onto the bench beside Leonard and they hugged each other hard for several minutes. “It’s all right, it’s all right,” Jim said soothingly to both of them. “It’s all right. And I even got the statues back.”

One of the diggers came over with a medical box and a bottle of water; he began daubing at the bleeding wound on Leonard’s face. Christine took the gauze squares from him and applied gentle pressure, as water sluiced down his face to remove the mud. Leonard took the gauze and held it to the side of his face.

“You got--Jim Kirk, is that all you can think about?” Christine said. She was shivering hard by now, and not just from being soaked through to the bone.

“What? NO! Of course not. Jesus, Chapel, what do you take me for?” Jim said. He stood and pulled a blanket out of one of the large containers nearby and swaddled her and Leonard in it. “The bag was right at Bones’s feet so, yeah, I picked it up.”

“I’m sorry, Jim, I’m so sorry.” She reached up and pulled him in for a tight hug. “I didn’t mean to imply it was more important than Len’s safety.”

“Ow, ow, ow! The nose! I know that, it’s fine, all right?” Jim sat back on his heels and rubbed his hands on their thighs. “Look, it has been a shitty, shitty past few hours.”

Leonard looked up at them. The shock of the past fifteen minutes was lifting and he became aware of the activity around him. He pulled Jim to him and kissed him soundly, then hugged Christine tightly to him, kissing her cheek and temple. “Is everyone all right, darlin’?”

“Yeah, yeah, we’re all fine. Santoso has secured the men and put several of the diggers on them. These country boys know how to handle guns. Everyone else is getting the camp secured and Kavi has a few people helping her pull together some food for supper. I don’t know about you two, but I’m starved!”

Leonard laughed. “Having your life threatened and screaming like a banshee at your captor will do that. Christine, you were fucking awesome back there.”

“Boss, so were you.”

They embraced again. “I don’t know about you, but I really could use a drink,” Leonard said, pulling his face out of Christine’s dripping hair. “And dry clothes. And a shower. And a really stiff drink.”

“Already said that, Bones.”

“Yeah, I just want to reiterate that it needs to be a really _strong_ one.”

Someone pushed cups of hot tea into their hands, which they accepted gratefully. “Not exactly what I had in mind,” Leonard grumbled, taking a sip of the tea, “but it’ll have to do for the moment.” Having been fortified thusly, Jim, Christine, and Leonard checked on everyone on their crew, assessing any injuries (thankfully, only a few suffering minor cuts and bruises) and, more importantly, their emotional states.

“I think the fact they pulled together and overcame that guard in the cellar did a lot to improve their moods,” Christine observed, as she handed another package of noodles to Kavi, who opened it and dropped the contents into a pot of boiling water. Everyone was laughing and talking, helping each other prepare dinner and keeping the fire going in the outside stove under the tarp. One of the Batak diggers was singing as he poured boiling water for tea.

“I think you’re right,” Leonard said as he accepted a hug and another cup of tea from the villager. “ _Thank you, my friend,_ ” he said. He walked over to where the muddy canvas bag was sitting and looked in it. “God, I hope these didn’t get--”

He pulled a statue out of the bag and inspected it. “Dammit,” Jim swore over his shoulder, “knocked one of the arms off of Sarasvarti.”

Christine came back to them with her camera in hand. “Hey, guys. Let’s get a picture for the field journals. I know I don’t want to remember all the crappy details of this day, but since it ended on a good note...”

“And Bones here is the hero of the day!” Jim added.

“I think we need a photo of our tiger. It definitely earned its way into the field notes,” Leonard added.

“Wait!” Jim said as Christine brought the camera up. “Lemme wipe the blood off of my chin.”

“You vain thing,” she teased.

“Nah, just don’t wanna gross anyone out,” Jim said, as he pulled a towel across the lower half of his face.

Christine took photos while they talked. Jim pulled Leonard close to him, his blue cast now a deep brown from the mud. Leonard held the damaged statue in one hand. “My god, we’re a sight,” he said, rubbing the drying, caked mud off of Jim’s neck. “God, Jim, there’s mud in your ear.”

“Really?” He rubbed a finger along the shell of his ear. “Kinda the least of my concerns at the moment.”

“How’s the nose?”

“Oh, it’s just awesome,” Jim replied. “Hurts like a bastard. When Ramelan shoved Christine into me, her elbow went into my nose, and I blacked out for a moment.”

Leonard studied Jim’s swollen and bruising face for a moment. “Jesus, Jim. It looks pretty bad. Can you breathe?”

“Sort of.” He touched it gingerly. “That’s why I was so far behind you when you went after Ramelan. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Leonard said, putting his arm around Jim. “It kinda worked out.”

Kavi announced that dinner was ready, and a general cheer went up. And as they lined up to fill their bowls, they became aware of extremely loud sounds all around the camp; a few moments later bright lights came shining through the tent, along with shouts.

“Holy shit!” Leonard exclaimed, looking around frantically. “Are we being invaded?”

“Nah. Christine made a call on the sat phone,” Jim said. “She was very insistent that some help be sent as soon as possible.”

“Are those helicopters I’m hearing?” Leonard asked.

“Wow! I think you’re right!” Christine said.

After several moments of confusion, a cry went up from their crew as military personnel carrying guns surrounded the dining area. Four of them rushed into the tent, followed by a very familiar face.

“Dr. McCoy, are you all right?” Spock said in a loud voice. He removed his dripping hat as he wiped droplets from his face.

“Spock!” Leonard said. “We’re fine, we’re all fine. Call off your men! The guys you want are in another tent.”

Spock gave the men around him orders and they ran out to find Santoso. Another man carrying a large medical case entered and set it on a table.

“No, we are not fine,” Christine said forcefully. “Len’s going to need stitches in his head, and Jim has a broken nose.”

“It’s all right, Christine, geez,” Leonard protested.

Spock stared at the statues in Leonard’s hands. “They are so much more beautiful than in the photographs.”

“That they are, Spock,” Leonard said.

“Tell me what has happened here.”

As Spock and Leonard spoke about the statues, about Ramelan’s treachery and the other men who held them hostage, and about the tiger, Leonard did not see Jim leading Christine over to the medic and sitting her down.

“They all are in perfect shape, except for this one it appears. Still, it’s a minor miracle that they came through being dropped and kicked around like they were,” Leonard agreed. “And just wait til you see all the ceremonial jewelry pieces. Have we finished photographing them yet, Christine?” He looked around. “Chris?”

He stood and hobbled over to where he saw Christine was being attended to by the medic. She was wincing in pain as he looked at the back of her neck. “Christine?” Leonard asked. “Oh my God, what’s wrong? Chris? What’d they do to you?”

“It’s all right, Len,” she said, her head bent over. “Just took the butt of a gun to the back of my head.”

“WHAT?”

“It happened when Ramelan and his band of idiots first came into the cellar. I. . .sort of stood up to them and one of the guys hit me,” she said as the medic cleaned the wound. The blood flowed freely as he removed the matted hair, but he efficiently staunched it; Leonard hovering protectively nearby. When the medic finished bandaging it and handed her a chemical cold pack, Christine raised her head and smiled at Leonard weakly. “But apparently, Ramelan gave the guy the what-for, so he wasn’t all bad. See? All better. Now it’s your turn.”

“Eh, I’m fine. And I’ll disagree with your assessment of Ramelan. He betrayed us, he betrayed Spock and the ministry, ” Leonard protested.

“You are _not_ fine, Leonard McCoy,” she said, taking his arm. “You are bleeding far too freely from a goddamn head wound. You, Doctor, take care of this for him, please.”

Struggling, Leonard was pushed onto the bench by Christine, and Jim held him there by resting his hands gently on his shoulders. “Don’t fight it, Bones,” Jim said in his ear. “You really need to be looked at.”

The medic cleaned and stitched the jagged wound on the side of Leonard’s face. “ _You’re going to have to see a plastic surgeon about this,_ the medic said. “ _I’ve only closed the wound with a few stitches. And you must monitor for signs of concussion. I would advise you and the woman to come back to Medan with us for x-rays. Head wounds can become serious._ ”

“ _I’ll be fine_ ,” Leonard said, _“thank you. But I think taking Christine with you is a good idea. I’ll make sure she’s on your transport._ ”

“You will be going to a doctor soon,” Jim said to him as he rose from the bench. “Don’t want to mar that gorgeous face.”

Leonard didn’t have the energy to respond to that comment, but just scowled and waved him off. The medic also examined Leonard’s knee, but not seeing any external damage, he wrapped it with an ace bandage. “ _Keep this cold pack on it,_ ” he said. “ _You really should get it x-rayed._ ”

“ _I’ll go to the clinic in the village tomorrow,_ ” he replied. Then, he looked at Jim. “And now you,” he insisted. “ _Major, can you help me set the nose? I’ve had field training, but I’ll need some help._ ”

The medic looked carefully at Jim’s nose while he pulled on a fresh pair of gloves. “ _I can. Want some pain meds?_ ” he asked Jim.

“Nah, just do it.” Jim gripped the edge of the bench.

The medic and Leonard conferred over how best to set it. The medic deferred to Leonard since he knew what Jim’s face looked like, and held Jim’s head steady in his hands. “Ok, Jim, this is going to hurt,” Leonard said, placing his fingers along either side of Jim’s nose.

“Yeah, I know. Do it.”

With a quick push with three fingers and an audible crunch, Leonard pushed the bone back into position; blood poured over his hands as Jim’s eyes watered. All Jim said was one emphatic, “OW!”

The medic quickly staunched the bleeding by packing the nose and placing one of the chemical cold packs on Jim’s face. Leonard stood behind him rubbing his neck.

Finally, having had their injuries attended and blood washed, mostly, off their faces, they returned to the table where Spock was inspecting all of the statues.

“This is a remarkable find,” he mused. “It adds to the complexity of the pre-history time of Sumatra. When we consider the bamboo documents you found in the cellar, it is becoming clear this was a temple colony that worshipped the female goddesses of Hinduism. And given the type of cloths you sent this morning, we think this may have been a predominantly female establishment.”

“That’s what we were thinking, too,” Jim said, picking up the damaged statue. “It’s not unheard of, but rare. Can’t wait to do more of the research on female temples.”

Spock reached into his backpack and pulled out a camera. “Gentlemen, a photograph for our records and for our publicity,” Spock said. “The Minister of Culture will be quite interested in these new finds. It is appropriate that you be photographed with them as the archaeologists of record.” Jim put his arm around Leonard, while Leonard was holding the statue. He looked up in time for a flash to go off in front of his eyes.

“Dammit, man! Warn someone next time!”

Spock took several more photos, including one where Leonard arranged his mud- and blood-covered face into something of a smile. All the while, Jim never removed his possessive grip on him.

~~*~~

After dinner the security forces took the four prisoners into custody and flew them back to Medan in the helicopter for imprisonment and interrogation. Several of the security personnel stayed on site, patrolling the perimeter for signs of the tiger. Apparently it had eaten its fill; a team recovered Ramelan’s remains to be returned to his family for burial--and the tiger had disappeared back into the forest.

Christine Chapel fought hard against going to Medan for further medical treatment. “Dammit, I’m _fine_ ,” she insisted. “If I start to feel badly, I’ll let you know. Leonard McCoy, stop hovering over me like a mother hen.”

The barrels of collected rainwater provided enough water for standing showers. Kavi assisted Christine with getting the mud out of her long blonde hair and keeping the bandage on her neck dry. Jim and Leonard tried to help, but Kavi insisted they remain beyond the blanket they had strung up for privacy. “No. Men cannot help,” she said firmly. They had to content themselves with hauling buckets of warmed water and handing them around the curtain. Finally, Christine was clean and dry and wrapped in a blanket. She kissed Leonard’s and Jim’s cheeks before she allowed Kavi to hustle her off to their shared tent.

“God, she looks exhausted,” Leonard said worriedly. “I should’ve made her go to Medan to the hospital.”

“Same could be said for you. I should’ve put both of you on the ‘copter,” Jim said, pointing at him. Then, he sighed. “Come on, Bones. We have about ten layers of mud on us, and it’s starting to make me itch.”

They took turns upturning buckets of water on themselves, stripping away the mud from their skin and clothing. They didn’t bother with the precious warmed water from the stove--the night was warm and the rainwater was at ambient temperature. Jim took care to scrub around the bandage on Leonard’s face. “I’m not a kid, Jim,” Leonard grumbled.

“Didn’t say you were,” Jim said, holding Leonard still to inspect his handiwork. “Yep, that got it. Ok, now wet my hair.” He bent over, hands on knees.

Leonard hesitated for a second. God, Jim bending over, his firm ass pressed into his thigh. He wanted nothing more than to put his hands on those rounded cheeks, divest them of the filthy jeans, and just revel in the sweetness. But it seemed it was not to be, not yet. . . .

With a sigh, he dumped the water a little harder than he intended. “Bones! What the hell, man? I said get my hair wet, not drown me!” Jim spluttered.

“Sorry.”

They stripped down finally, getting out of their wet, but no longer mud-encrusted clothing. The muddy ground made getting completely clean impossible, but they managed to remove most of it from their bodies. Leonard looked pointedly away from Jim’s nakedness.

Some time later, mostly clean and dry, they dragged into their tent, wearing only damp towels around their middles. Leonard tossed a small bag of medications left by the medic onto his cot, then lit the lantern and hung it overhead. “I wonder if I have anything clean to wear,” he said, mostly to himself. “I can’t remember the last time I did laundry.”

“Why do you need anything to sleep in?” Jim asked softly, coming up behind him. He wrapped his arms around Leonard’s body. As he did, Leonard let his towel fall away to the ground.

“Jim...” he groaned.

“Shhh!” Jim pulled him closer. The heat coming off of him, the hard cock rubbing Leonard’s ass, seeking deeper entry, was almost unbearable. Leonard wanted nothing more than to throw Jim down on that air mattress and make him squirm with pleasure, make him howl when he slid his cock into...

He moaned as Jim wrapped his long, strong fingers around his semi-erect cock. Damn, but he wanted this, wanted _Jim_ , wanted to feel everything with him, for him, by him. Wanted to come so damn bad inside Jim’s beautiful body.

“Bones, I want you,” Jim whispered into his neck. “I want you here, now. But--”

“But we can’t,” Leonard whispered back.

Jim let his head fall to Leonard’s neck and he sighed, huffing a breath across his sweaty skin. “I know.” His uncasted hand freed Leonard’s cock but continued to wander over Leonard’s abdomen, his chest, his groin while Jim’s casted one held him possessively to his chest.

Leonard leaned his head back onto Jim’s shoulder and gripped the free hand by the wrist. “Our time will come, Jim, I promise.” He hesitated, and then breathed, “I--I love you, Jim.”

Jim became very still. “Bones?”

With that, Jim released him, but Leonard did not let go of his hand. Leonard leaned over and blew out the lantern light, and then pulled Jim to him, wrapping him tightly in his arms. They moaned quietly as heated flesh met heated flesh. “I love you, Jim Kirk,” Leonard whispered in Jim’s ear. “You don’t need to say it, or believe it or anything. But _I need_ to tell you. Thing is, when you’re staring down the barrel of a gun, life tends to narrow to the essentials.” He pressed his forehead to Jim’s, tightening his arms around him. “I need you to know that I love you.”

In the dark, Leonard couldn’t see the brilliant smile lighting Jim’s lips, but he could hear the hitch in his breathing and feel the kisses Jim peppered along his jawline, across his cheeks. Then he tangled his right hand in Leonard’s hair, and carefully pressed their lips together. It started gently, mindful of injured noses and faces, sweet and hot. But quickly their kiss melted into a passionate, open-mouthed one, tongues rolling frantically around the other’s. Leonard could taste the blood in Jim’s mouth, but didn’t mind at all. He poured all his love and concern and longing for this man into that kiss, conveying to Jim that this is what he wanted, _who_ he wanted. They broke apart several times to gulp in air, but even the need to breathe could not stop them. Jim was Leonard’s air, his need, his _life_.

Leonard felt Jim’s casted hand and fingertips grip his ass tightly, then began a sensuous, slow grind of his hips; his cock rubbed into his groin, sending sparks of desire through Leonard. He tried to break the kiss but Jim’s hand quickly tightened its grip on the back of his neck to prevent it.

Slowly, Jim walked them to his mattress, and they parted briefly to land on it. “Jim--” Leonard tried to say, but Jim immediately sealed his mouth to Leonard’s as his hand pulled Leonard’s hips to him. Jim rolled Leonard on top of him, parting his legs slightly so that Leonard’s cock slipped between them. Leonard groaned at the wet heat, at feeling his dick nudge up against Jim’s scrotum. Jim’s cock, trapped between their stomachs, was leaking profusely; Jim cantered his hips to and fro, encouraging Leonard to do the same.

Leonard’s mind spiraled. Ignoring the pain in his head and his side from Ramelan’s bashing, Leonard’s body screamed for release. Feeling liberated at telling Jim how he felt, how much he loved him, and needing to experience the bliss of orgasm propelled him; his body’s need overtook everything else. Jim’s tongue fucked his mouth in time with their hips, in and out, in and out; the heat built between them as Leonard picked up speed. As he did, Jim pressed his legs together tighter; the sweat and pre-cum lubricating Leonard’s overly sensitive dick. He swallowed the small gasps Jim was making and then felt the flood of heated release between them; two more thrusts and ecstasy overcame him.

Finally, Jim released his neck, unsealing their lips. Leonard gasped as he inhaled cooler air. Sweat dripped off his nose and ears and chin as lethargy stole like a thief through his body. He sagged, only to hear Jim whisper, “Bones! Air!”

He slid off to one side, and Jim heaved several deep, gulping breaths. “Oh, fuck, man,” Jim said in between breaths. “Fuuuuck.”

Leonard stifled a laugh at that. “No, that’s what we wanted to do,” he whispered back. He scrubbed his hand over his sweaty face, wincing as he touched the wound. God, his temple was a mess. A powerful urge to sleep pulled at him.

“True,” Jim said finally, “but I was kinda referring to the fact my nose really hurts.”

That roused Leonard, and he sat up. “Hey, let’s take some pain meds. The medic left us some happy pills.”

Jim groaned. “Ordinarily, I’d say no, but goddamn, this hurts. I think I will.”

Leonard pulled himself up off of the mattress and found the bag with the foil of pills on his cot and then felt around for the water bottle underneath. “Here you go,” he said, handing Jim a pill and the bottle. “Swallow it down.”

“God, I love it when you push drugs on me.”

Jim handed him a towel with which to clean up. Leonard dabbed at the drying semen on his thighs and abdomen, then tossed it to the side. They lay back down and arranged themselves under a light blanket.

After a few moments, Jim took Leonard’s hand in his. “You ok, Bones?”

“Head aches. Knee hurts. Tired,” Leonard said sleepily. “Love you, Jim.” He felt the warmth of Jim’s body next to his and a protective arm encircle him, and fell deeply asleep.


	6. CHAPTER 6

_Five days later...._

Leonard awakened slowly, and assessed his state of being: _Ok, still in the hospital. Headache: Not too bad, but I haven’t opened my eyes yet. Right ankle: moving well. Right knee where that bastard kicked me: Sore. Right arm: a little stiff, but acceptable. Left hand: Oh..._ He felt warm fingers wrapped around his, soft breaths upon his wrist. He smiled.

“Hey, wake up, sleepy,” he whispered, shaking the hand grasping his.

Jim’s eyes blinked open. “Hmm? Hey.”

Leonard loved looking into Jim’s eyes first thing in the morning; they were always so brilliantly blue, like deep tropical pools of the clearest water. It never took Jim long to wake up fully. And even after spending several hours asleep at the side of his hospital bed, Jim would be at full speed in just a few minutes.

Jim blinked several more times then smiled broadly. “Bones!” he exclaimed. “You don’t look quite so zombie-like today.” He leaned in and kissed him quickly on the cheek.

“Thanks for that,” Leonard grumbled. “Move. I gotta hit the head.”

Leonard swung his legs around and off the side of the bed. Four days in the hospital, four days of bland food, no bourbon, and most importantly, being away from the expedition had him feeling antsy. _It could also be you’re just feeling better,_ his inner voice said.

“Yeah, yeah,” Leonard mumbled.

“You say something, Bones?”

“Not a thing. Where’re my slippers?”

“Just go to the bathroom,” Jim said, standing and stretching.

“Like hell I will. Dammit, Jim, do you know how filthy the floors are in hospitals?” he groused, looking under the bed. He stood up, and all the blood rushed downward, leaving him lightheaded and a little dizzy. “Ooh, I don’t think I should’ve done that.” He swayed a little, clutching his head.

“Jesus, Bones,” Jim huffed, helping him to sit on the bed again. He dropped to his knees and found one slipper near the head and another under the nightstand. “Here.”

“Wash your hands before you touch anything, Jim,” Leonard said, sighing, then slid into the scuffs and walked slowly to the bathroom.

“I’m taking you home,” Jim called. “You’re bitching so you must be feeling better.”

Four days earlier, Leonard was decidedly not feeling well at all. Jim had had a hard time waking him up the morning after Leonard had been bashed in the head with a rock by the traitorous Ramelan. The medic who’d stitched his head had wanted to take him to the hospital in Medan, but Leonard had waved him off. Once Jim and the others had finally awakened him, Leonard simply could not keep his eyes open. And he complained of a headache, one so bad that he was nauseated.

“Okay, that’s it,” Jim had declared. “I’m calling for help.”

“Like hell you are,” Leonard grumbled. “I’ll be fine. Just give me two aspirin and a strong cup of coffee.”

“No way, boss,” Christine said, holding the satellite phone out to Jim. “You look like shit. And I know you feel like it. Jim, make the call.”

Despite his protests to the contrary, Leonard had finally admitted to Christine he really _did_ feel terrible and that his head threatened to explode from the throbbing. The medical helicopter came from Medan, as per Christopher Pike’s orders. Jim’s nose was still bleeding, so Christine and Sulu pushed both of them onto the transport.

“But I don’t _need_ to go,” Jim shouted at them over the deafening noise of the helicopter.

“Jim Kirk, do NOT make me hurt you,” Christine shouted back. “Okay, boys! Take her up!” She had stepped back and made the twirly sign to the pilot.

Once they had landed at the Medan airport, a private jet had been waiting to take them to Jakarta. The medical care in Medan was adequate, but with a head injury such as Leonard had suffered, Pike and Jim had wanted him to be seen by a neurologist with access to the best equipment, and that was at the University Hospital in Jakarta. Once there, Leonard was diagnosed with a concussion as well as two broken ribs, which had earned him his nearly week-long hospital stay. Jim’s nose required surgery, which had not required further stay. Winona, though, had insisted Jim stay for a few days to rest. And when she also suggested he should stay to be with Leonard, all his protestations died. Even though Jim had been officially released the day before, he still wanted to be near Leonard, and ended up spending the night in the lounger in his room.

Leonard returned from the bathroom just as his doctor entered the room. “Ah, Dr. McCoy, good to see you up and about,” Dr. Subrihamin, a young, Stanford-trained Indian, said. “Any nausea this morning?”

“Haven’t eaten breakfast yet,” Leonard growled.

“Yes, the food is rather tasteless for a reason,” the doctor replied, chuckling. “However, you’ve managed to keep everything down for two days now. You’re a little undernourished, but that’s to be expected with what you’ve been doing.”

“Hey, we’re eating pretty well,” Jim said. “There’s a diner in the village that sends up food every other day.”

“But you are both exerting quite a bit. Your caloric intake isn’t keeping up with your output. Dr. McCoy is a little thin, but nothing to worry about.” He put the chart down on the bed, and pulled the blood pressure cuff out of his pocket. “May I check your vitals now?” he asked.

Leonard sat on the edge of the bed as the physician went through a standard physical. “Heart and pulse are good, pressure is normal, breath sounds equal and clear--you are in peak condition. Pupils equal and responsive.” He checked the wound under the bandage. “Ah, good, no more bleeding. Dr. Muhammad did a very fine job of re-stitching your wound. You should have very little scarring.” He carefully palpated the ribs, but Leonard flinched anyway. “My apologies. The ribs will be tender but that should not hold you back from being discharged.”

“When can we return to our expedition?” Jim asked.

The physician crossed his arms over his chest. “Ideally, another few weeks. However,” he held up a hand as Leonard drew a breath to protest, “if you promise to not exert yourself, if you _sit_ and do research and not dig, then I don’t see why you cannot return as soon as you are able. Dr. Kirk, I am putting you in charge of keeping him under control.”

“What?” Leonard said. “He’s just as bad as I am!”

“How about I give your care orders to Christine? She’s one tough lady, Doctor,” Jim said. “I think Bones is a little afraid of her,” he whispered with a smile.

“I am not, and you will _not_ tell Christine,” Leonard said, jamming a finger into Jim’s breastbone.

“Then you will give these care orders to Miss Christine,” Dr. Subrihamin said, handing Jim several sheets of folded papers. “Tell her to pay attention to the instructions for seven days after, plenty of rest, no strenuous work, especially with a shovel, and no alcohol for another few weeks.”

“Oh, now, that’s just plain mean and unnecessary,” Leonard said, outraged.

“And you, Dr. Kirk,” the doctor continued, ignoring Leonard deliberately, “are also under orders to take it easy. Your radius suffered a major trauma and you take care. Your nose was severely broken. If I didn’t know you two were archaeologists, I’d swear you were sailors carousing the bars at night.”

“Can’t even do that,” Leonard grumbled. “Am I released?”

“You are. But I will be very disappointed if you end up in my trauma center again, Dr. McCoy.” He bowed to him in the traditional fashion. “It has been my pleasure. Dr. Kirk, I expect the Cardinals to rise victorious above the Bruins come basketball season.”

“Only in your wildest dreams, Dr. Subrihamin,” Jim replied, bowing to him, then extended his hand. “Thank you.”

The genial physician left the room with a final wave. “So, Bones,” Jim said, rubbing his hands together. “How about a real breakfast, _makan pagi_ , yes? _Nasi goreng, mata sapi, rujak_ , fried banana cakes...mmm, god, I’m starving now myself.”

“I’d kill for a sausage and egg biscuit,” Leonard said, pulling on his jeans.

“A McDonald’s run? Seriously, Bones? When we’re in the spice and fruit capital of the universe?”

Leonard tossed his hospital gown at him. “So what?”

“Well, we can, but I know this place that serves _uli petataws_ that are to die for. The doc did say you’re underweight.”

Leonard looked up as he was buttoning his shirt. “Those little sweet potato fritters with coconut in them?”

Jim nodded. “Yep.”

Leonard thought, then stuffed a t-shirt into his backpack. “You’re buying.”

They continued to gather up the few personal items he had. Finally, they gave the room one more sweep before Leonard turned to the bathroom where he’d stashed his toiletries. He took a moment to stare at his face in the mirror. The side with the wound was still swollen and badly bruised; his cheek was peppered with small scabbed-over cuts. He desperately needed a hair cut. _It’s been ages since it was this long,_ he thought. _And I’m going to Jim’s house. With his mother_. He paused. He’d met Winona under less than comfortable or ideal circumstances. He shifted nervously before the mirror.

“What are you doing in there, Bones?” Jim asked from outside the door.

“You sure you feel up to having me over, Jim? I could just as easily stay in a hotel,” Leonard asked as he ran the comb through his hair one last time. He was not going to admit to the butterflies in his stomach and hoped that Jim might give him an out.

Jim poked his head into the door and grinned at Leonard in the mirror. The fading bruises and swelling around his nose did not detract from the knowing smile. “My mom invited you, Bones. So there’s no hotel in your future.”

Leonard cursed under his breath and dropped the comb into his ditty bag. “Fine. Then we better get going or Chris’ll have to pay for another day. Affordable or not, this room couldn’t have been cheap.”

“C’mon, Bones. It won’t be that bad.” Jim wrapped an arm around Leonard’s waist and pulled him close, kissing his jaw teasingly.

“Says you. How can this be anything _but_ awkward. The last time I laid eyes on your mom... Oh, fuck,” he groaned.

Jim tugged a protesting Leonard forward and out the door before he could dig his heels in further. “Oh, that.” Jim chuckled. “Trust me, it’s not my mom you have to worry about. But, right now, there is the more pressing and important matter of _makan pagi_.”

Leonard got a funny feeling in his stomach and it wasn’t from hunger. “Jim? Who’s going to be there? Jim! Who the hell am I meeting?”

~~*~~

Several hours later, after a fantastic breakfast and a walk through a Jakarta street market, Leonard glanced around as they drove through the obviously wealthy neighborhood. The manicured lawns, verdant greenery, and widely spaced houses said more about the status of the owners than the Mercedes and Bentleys in the driveways. Leonard tried not to fidget as the driver slowed and then pulled into Winona’s house. The front lawn was filled with tall palms with a wide stone walkway that led to the front door. A long patio held up by tall, dark columns ran the length of the front of the dark red-roofed house.

As they neared the front door, Leonard heard the strains of a wooden flute and chimes on the wind. He took a deep breath and reached for Jim’s hand. “You grew up here?” he asked as they stepped onto the porch.

Jim shrugged and pressed the doorbell. “Dad had a huge life insurance policy. And after his death, money poured in from all over -- guess Mom and me were the perfect news story, photogenic and tragic. Mother gave away most of it, set up the Foundation, but she wanted to stay here, wanted to live in _their_ house, so she bought it outright from the foreign service.”

The door opened and Jim’s smile grew impossibly wide. He embraced the petite woman tightly before pulling back and starting a rapid-fire conversation in Batak. _“Nima! It is good to see you! I thought you had retired to stay home with your grandbabies!”_

She gave Jim an impish grin and patted his cheeks fondly. _“I had to, since **you** were never going to give me babies to look after. I came today to help out. Your mama told me what had happened and I know **you,** James Kirk, so how could I refuse?”_

She turned to Leonard. “You must be Doctor McCoy,” she said in softly accented, but perfect, English. “I have heard so much about you.”

Poornima held out her hand and Leonard shook it as he answered, a sheepish smile on his face. “Well, don’t believe a word of it, ma’am.”

Nima grinned at him, her dark eyes twinkling. “Why? Are you _not_ the upstanding young gentleman I was led to believe? You had better be, if you’re sweet on my Jimmy. Please follow me.” She turned and began walking through the house, with Leonard stealing glimpses of the rooms as they passed by. “I am Poornima, but you can call me Nima. I practically raised this scamp from the day he was born, so if you need to know anything about him, just ask.”

“Nima!” Jim protested, but Leonard grinned.

“I’ll be sure to ask you for the embarrassing stories, ma’am.”

“It’s Nima, and don’t you forget it. As for embarrassing stories... hmmm, let me think.... “ Her eyes lit up as Jim fidgeted. She chuckled. “I have some particularly humiliating tales... so we will talk, but later. Right now, you need to rest. Sleep. I will bring tea to your room and a light lunch.” She stopped and looked at Jim, her gaze assessing, then gave Leonard the same once over. “I am making your favorite for dinner. You are both nothing but skin and bones.”

Jim grinned, his eyes sparking with mischief. “I have a high metabolism!” he protested. “I’m lean, not skinny. If you had your way, I couldn’t fit through the doorway!”

Leonard watched the pair interact. This tiny woman made him feel welcome and he responded, smiling at her effortless ability to silence Jim and turn him into a small boy once again; a sexy as all fuck, adorable, brilliant, mischievous boy. Leonard relaxed marginally, hoping the rest of the meetings would go as well.

The home was beautiful and serene, open to the elements, the outside flowing through the house with greenery and water elements in abundance. A sea breeze cooled the house, sending wooden chimes tinkling with each gust. This was a refuge, a peaceful haven, seemingly polar opposite to Jim’s near constant motion and manic drive.

Only when they stepped out onto the back patio could Leonard visualize Jim growing up here. This -- the open spaces -- these were his element; the glassy surfaced pool with candles floating on the water, the large green yard stretching to the fence, and beyond that the wide, sandy beach and endless, open sea. Here was where he could see Jim as a child racing along the sand, splashing in the waves, getting into endless heaps of trouble.

“Please give me a moment.” Poornima paused to gather two large white tablecloths from a clothes line, folding them efficiently before turning back to them. “My eldest is arriving shortly to help with dinner, but she would use the electric dryer. Nothing is as good as fresh air!” She handed the bundles to Jim and continued on their path which Leonard realized served two purposes: a tour for him and a survey of the house for Poornima, who picked up items, straightened objects d’art, all while chatting amiably with Jim.

“Here we are.” Poornima took the tablecloths from Jim. “This room is yours. Jimmy’s is next door and you share the bathroom. I put fresh sheets on the bed this morning and there are plenty of linens in the bath. If you need anything, just send Jim for it.” She patted Leonard on the shoulder and gave Jim a quick hug. “Hang onto this one,” she stage-whispered.

Jim blinked a few times as he watched Poornima walk away.

“She’s got your number, doesn’t she, Jim?”

Jim still had a bemused expression on his face when he turned to Leonard, nodding slowly. “And she liked you. Good thing, too.” Jim shifted Len’s bag on his shoulder and stepped into the bedroom. It was smaller than Leonard expected, but had large windows facing the ocean which were thrown wide, allowing the cool sea breeze in.

Leonard dropped to the bed, more tired than he realized.

Jim turned back from unpacking Leonard’s bag and he shook his head. “Bones, quit fighting it. You had a head injury. You need time to recover. C’mon. Let’s get you settled in bed.”

“Feel like I haven’t done anything _but_ sleep, Jim. I don’t need to sleep more,” Leonard grumbled, but he didn’t fight as Jim took off his shoes, slid his jeans off, and tucked him under the cool, sweet smelling sheets. Leonard tried to fight it, but a soft sigh issued from his lips.

Jim chuckled and settled next to him, his back to the headboard as he gently stroked his fingers through Leonard’s hair. Between the tender caress and the gentle sound of the waves, Leonard was quickly asleep.

~~*~~

Leonard woke slowly, his whole body warm and lethargic from the pull of sleep. He was cocooned within warmth and too comfortable to move. Awareness returned gradually, he blinked a few times and tried to get his bearings, but nothing was familiar. Disoriented, he turned his head when he heard a soft knock. “Doctor McCoy? Forgive me for disturbing you, but dinner will be ready soon enough and Ms. Winona thought you and Jimmy would enjoy cocktails on the patio beforehand.”

The words were clear enough through the rattan insets in the door, but it still took a few moments before Leonard comprehended. At the same time, he realized that his warm nest was all due to Jim being curled around him, Leonard’s head tucked into his lap. Leonard reluctantly shifted, lifted his head and called out, “Thank you, ma’am. We will be out shortly.”

Jim protested his movements, but eventually woke and stretched like a cat, long limbs flexing and reaching. Only Jim could turn waking up slumped over on a bed sensual.

“Got a crick in my neck, Bones.”

“Of course you do. You were half hangin’ off the bed, half draped over my head like a parka. Any sane person would have just lain down next to me.”

“I was trying to make you more comfortable!” Jim protested. “Give you all the bed.”

Jim was sleep-tousled and pouting. Leonard could not resist and turned carefully, mindful of the nose before kissing Jim deeply.

So it was longer than they had planned before they were dressed and arrived on the patio. Jim turned to Bones as they stepped out into a world transformed. The pool was filled with floating candles and the sun was setting in a blaze of magenta, purple, orange, and deepest indigo.

Jim followed Bones’s eyes and shrugged. “For you. Nima and Mother like to entertain. You made a good impression.” He rubbed his hands together and asked, “So, drinks. No booze for you, of course, but....”

Leonard stopped Jim with a hand on his shoulder. “What if she hadn’t liked me?” he asked, still so confused and curious about Jim’s family, his background. It was unsurprising how little he knew about Jim, but he wanted to change that.

Jim blushed. “Nima’s wily, Bones, and very protective. She’s from a Christian family, not Muslim like most Indonesians. Mom’s pretty sure the minister of the Protestant church sent her to care for her, a young American widow without family, but she’s never said. She just showed up on mom’s doorstep a couple of days after I was born, determined to take care of both of us and she did. Always has. But she’s not very trusting.” Here Jim grinned, unashamed. “She’s run off more than a few of mom’s suitors. Scared a couple of my college flings straight. I learned the hard way that my love life suffered if I brought them here.”

Leonard’s eyebrow raised in utter disbelief. “That tiny, sweet...”

Jim nodded, his grin softening into the gentle one he’d given Poornima. “She’s ferocious when defending her family.” Leonard watched as Jim’s eyes lit up and his smile turned positively gleeful. “I bet she’s been torturing Pike to no end...”

That thought gave Leonard a small jolt of satisfaction and he chuckled. As he lifted his chin, his eyes met Chris’s. He’d materialized, seemingly conjured from thin air by Jim’s naming. “Chris!” he gasped, his eyes wide. He felt his cheeks grow hot at his surprise. He knew Chris would be here. He worked for the man, he was going to have to interact with him.

“Len,” he hesitated. “It’s good to see you. Could we... could I pull you away for a few minutes?”

Before Leonard could reply, Jim turned. “Chris.”

“Jim. Glad to see you all healed up. When did you get the cast off?”

Jim was too still and Leonard began to sweat. He stepped forward, moved so that his body was slightly in front of Jim’s right arm, his eyes darting nervously between the two men. Jim’s eyes were hard, his body tense. He was going to do or say something they would all regret.

“Jim, you were getting us drinks, remember?” Leonard urged, even as his eyes pleaded with Jim to walk away.

Instead of stepping away, Jim shook his head and stepped forward. “Bones doesn’t want me to make a scene so I won’t, but I will say my piece. You dare treat my mom like you did him, I’ll break you into so many pieces, even Bones wouldn’t be able to reassemble your remains.”

That was too much for Leonard; he wrapped an arm around Jim’s waist and forcibly pulled him away from Pike. “Stop it!” he hissed at Jim. “I’m not some virginal maid whose honor needs to be defended, and have some respect for your mother. She’s no fool, Jim.”

Jim looked at Leonard like he was going to say something else, his eyes hot and wild, and Leonard shook his head and glared back, silencing him. “Please, just go get me some tea.”

Jim’s eyes flicked from Leonard to Pike, and he looked like he wanted to argue, but he didn’t, just finally turned and walked away. Leonard could hear grumbling trailing after him.

When he was sure Jim was out of earshot, he turned back to Chris, and gave him a wary look. “You want to talk? Seriously? Haven’t you already said your piece?”

“Could we go somewhere private?” Chris was almost hesitant, and that more than anything convinced Leonard that he should hear him out.

He shrugged and waved Chris forward. “Lead on.”

Chris led them through the house and into a breezeway that bisected the house, separating the private living areas from the public rooms. The hallway was covered, but open to the outside, warm brick contrasting with the cool breeze flowing through. The floor was not a floor, but was, instead, a still pond, koi darting in its depths with wide, round stepping stones running its length. Chris easily made his way over the stones, until they arrived at another patio, set with comfortable rattan and cushioned chairs clustered around a low copper table with a fire pit in its midst. Bamboo and palms blocked the setting sun and most of the sea breezes, setting up a cozy, private nook.

Chris stopped and waved Leonard forward, gave him the choice of seats. Leonard refused to be uncomfortable even if he was, so he chose to sit on the sofa and attempted to appear casual and relaxed, even if he was not. He looked at Chris who eased into the chair nearest Leonard. He set his drink on the table and sighed.

“Out with it, Chris. You wanted to talk. Well, you don’t get much more _private_ than this.” Leonard knew he was being pretty gruff, but this was a damned awkward situation he found himself in and he didn’t like it. Not one bit.

“I just wanted to apologize. To try again to tell you what I should have said at first, what I’m no good at admitting.” Chris didn’t fidget, but he couldn’t meet Leonard’s eyes and he kept picking up his wine glass, only to set it down again.

“Apologize? I thought you said we were ‘casual’, so what do you have to apologize for?” Leonard hoped his tone was schooled, neutral. He was trying to keep any bitterness out of it.

Chris looked up then, finally met Leonard’s eyes. The sadness convinced Leonard that he had not kept his voice as devoid of emotion as he’d intended.

“Len, I _am_ sorry. I screwed up. Behaved badly.” He scrubbed his hand through his hair and blew out a soft huff. “If you had told me six months ago we’d be sitting here having this conversation, I would have laughed in your face. I always figured it’d be you who would stop whatever it was we were doing and finally find yourself someone special. You deserve that.” His voice dropped. “Never thought _I’d_ have a second chance....”

Leonard frowned. “Chris, what the hell are you talking about?”

Chris sighed and looked up at Leonard, his blue eyes gray in the dappled light. He smiled softly at Leonard. “I noticed, from the very first, that Jim and you... there was something there, something under the surface. Even when you guys argued, there was attraction.”

Leonard interrupted with a snort. “I’m not blind, Chris. Jim’s a good looking guy.”

“This was more than that, and you know it. Wasn’t one-sided... obviously. So, I bided my time, waiting for you to realize you wanted something more than what we had.”

“Chris...”

Chris held up his hand. “Len, I’m happy for you. Just... stunned for myself, and I don’t want to lose your friendship. Want to fix this, fix _us_. We were friends first, Len, and I’ll do anything to get back to that.”

Leonard sagged back into the sofa, shook his head. “Chris... just... why?” he finally blurted out.

Chris nodded. “Yeah, it’s... I doubt it’ll make it better, but you deserve to know.” His voice was gravelly, thick with emotion, and Leonard just watched him, waiting.

He picked up his wine glass, swallowed the last of the white, before setting it down once again. “It’s... the whole story would be pretty long if I told you everything. But, I’m not going to make excuses, even if seeing Winona again immediately took me back to my youth, to being fresh from high school; thought I knew everything, that I was ready to take on the world...”

It took Leonard a bit of time to catch up, but his eyes widened when he did. “Wait... what? You knew Winona before?”

Chris nodded. “Yeah.” He sighed loudly. “Sometimes, I look at Jim and wonder... I think... dammit! He could have been _my_ kid.” Chris closed his eyes, but not before Leonard glimpsed the grief there.

“Tell me, Chris. I think you need it as much as I do.”

Chris nodded again and licked his lips before starting. “It was during my gap year. I was here, practically living on the beach, partying, surfing, doing nothing, until I met her -- Winona. It was love at first sight for me. Took her a bit longer to warm up to me. I was younger, spoiled, rich, and she was fresh from uni, filled with optimism and the drive to make the world better.” He sighed softly, his eyes distant as he reminisced.

He caught himself and his eyes refocused on Leonard. “I wanted to marry her, chuck everything -- I think I would have, too, but my mom... let’s just say that she didn’t approve, and managed to convince me it wasn’t real, wouldn’t last, was nothing but a ‘youthful indiscretion’, that I didn’t belong in Winnie’s world.”

Chris stopped speaking, shook his head as he stared at his hands, his words soft when he finally began speaking again. “I lost my head when I saw her. She’s still so beautiful. I couldn’t believe that she didn’t hate me, that it was so easy, so natural; felt like I was eighteen again...”

He looked up at Leonard, his eyes filled with a riot of emotions and Leonard sighed in response. “Shit. Chris.” He swallowed, reached out, tugged Chris closer before resting his palm on Chris’ arm.

“I’m sorry, Len. Never meant to hurt you. No matter how much of a dick I can be, I _do_ care about you. I just... Will you ever be able to forgive me?”

Leonard looked at his hand, then lifted his eyes to Chris’s. He gave him a half-smile, his eyes sparking with mischief as he slowly nodded. “We’ll get there. I mean, it’d be far too awkward with us being almost related for me not to.”

Chris snorted. “Awkward doesn’t begin to cover this, Len.”

Leonard gave a bright smile and chuckled as he leaned back and stretched out his legs. “Nope, guess not, but somehow it’s not all that surprising. Jim’s always been... controversial.”

“Is that what you call it?”

“Well, I didn’t think it’d be prudent to talk about the combined hotness of Kirks and how no mere mortal can resist them, seeing as how I’m currently the recipient of one Kirk’s hospitality and...”

“Warming the bed of another?” Chris interjected.

Leonard flushed. “Shut up. You’re one to talk, Mister ‘got caught with his fly open’.”

Chris leaned forward, his lips almost curling up into a smile, but his eyes were still hooded. “Seriously, Len, are we okay?”

Leonard considered the question, searched his mind and heart for how he was feeling and found that he understood Chris’ rash actions, knew that his decisiveness was one of the traits that made him such a damned good businessman and had attracted Leonard so much in the first place. “We’re good, Chris. Just next time talk to me first, okay?”

Chris sagged with relief. “Hell, there won’t be a _next_ time. Your boyfriend would gut me and, fuck, I can’t even imagine what Winnie would do!”

Leonard smirked as warmth spread through him. _Boyfriend._ But he agreed, Jim would gladly castrate Chris if he dared pull the same shit again.

A soft cough and then a gentle, accented voice made Leonard turn his head. Poornima was standing in the entrance, a warm smile on her face. “Doctor McCoy, Jim is looking for you and dinner is about to be served in the dining room. Shall I inform him that you are detained or will you be able to join him?”

“Thank you, ma’am. I’ll be there shortly.”

“It’s Nima, Doctor McCoy. _Please._ ”

Leonard smiled widely. “Then you have to call me Leonard, ma’am.”

“Cheeky youngster!” Poornima muttered but her smile was genuine before her gaze turned to Chris and the fond smile was replaced with a cold glare. “And you, Mister Pike, will you be joining them for dinner?” Her tone made it clear that she would prefer him to drop dead on the spot.

Leonard felt the tension escalate and glanced between Chris and Nima, but wisely said nothing.

Chris sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Len and I will be there in a moment, Poornima. Thank you.”

Without another word, Poornima turned and left, leaving the air on the patio distinctly more frosty than before.

“She’s not fond of you, I take it?” Leonard had to stifle the grin as he recalled Jim’s words.

“That’s the understatement of the century. She’s been suspicious of me from the first. Not sure how to make it better, either. She seems to like you, though. How’d you manage that?”

“My natural southern charm?” Leonard replied as he stood up.

“Charming? You? Hell, no! You’re a surly bastard! Don’t give me that. You _just_ met her and are already on a first name basis!” Chris stood and gripped Leonard’s bicep firmly before letting go.

“Maybe she knows you’re a player and is reserving her judgment?”

Chris grumbled as he straightened his shirt and slacks.

“Hmm, you might be right. How about--”

Chris looked up, the intensity in his eyes almost made Leonard pull back. “You really got it bad, don’t you?”

At Chris’s nod, Leonard draped an arm over his shoulders and whispered conspiratorially as they began walking. “I suggest you make Winona happy and Nima will come around. You’re a charming guy, Chris, no one can resist you.”

“Poornima can.”

“Not for long. Just give it some time. Show her that the past is just that and that you’re here for the long haul.”

Chris nodded. They rounded a corner and found themselves in the dining room. Len smiled sheepishly and hastily slid his arm from Chris’ shoulder, his eyes lingering on Jim’s, who had that little furrow between his brows.

Behind Jim, Leonard saw the flowing ponytail of beautiful dark hair. “Nyota!” he exclaimed.

Nyota Uhura came forward and embraced him tightly. “Oh, Leonard, I’ve been so worried about you,” she said into his neck. She raised her head and kissed his cheek. “I came by the hospital a few times, but you were always asleep. I didn’t have the heart to wake you, but Jim has kept me informed of your recovery.” Her eyes welled up. “And I’m so worried about Christine. Chris allowed me to call her on the satellite phone after you and Jim arrived. I am so going to kick her ass for not coming with you.”

“I know,” Leonard said. “I should have fought harder to get her on the ‘copter.”

“Well, what you don’t know is that Kavi was able to convince her to visit the village clinic later that day,” Chris said, stepping up to them. “She’s fine, Len. No concussion at all.”

“Damn, I should’ve kept in better touch with her. I should--”

“You were doing exactly what you were supposed to be doing,” Nyota said sternly. “Now, stop it, Leonard McCoy.” She hugged him tightly again.

“Ooh, easy on the goods, darlin’,” Leonard said, grimacing. “You’re hitting a tender spot.”

“I’m sorry!” she said, dropping her arms. “Oh, god, I didn’t re-injure you, did I?”

“Hardly,” Leonard said, pulling her to him again. “I’m a little tougher than that.”

Winona entered the room and gracefully stepped to Chris’s side She took Chris’ arm and led them to the oval table that was alight with flickering candles, gleaming silver, and sparkling crystal. “Chris, you’re here at the head of the table between Doctor Spock and myself.” She turned to Uhura. “And you, dear, you won’t mind sitting between Spock and Leonard, will you?”

Nyota shook her head and took the offered place with ballet-like grace, her eyes flicking between Chris, Winona and Leonard. He and Chris had not been the best kept secret and Leonard could see the wheels turning in Nyota’s mind as she made all the connections.

Winona gave Chris a quick kiss on the cheek before moving on, walking with Leonard to the foot of the table. “And you’re here next to Jimmy... Jim,” she corrected. Leonard noticed the gentle squeeze she placed on Jim’s shoulder as she passed him. He assumed it was a reminder that Jim behave himself. Winona was a smart woman, keeping Jim and Chris apart.

As soon as Winona was seated, Spock stood and raised his glass, everyone slowly emulating him. “To Doctors McCoy and Kirk, without whom we would not be here, celebrating one of the greatest archaeological finds in Indonesian history!” He raised his glass higher to the sounds of _”Here! Here!” “Len!”, and “Jim!”_ as well as one _’’I’m so proud!”_ which had Jim grinning shyly. Leonard wanted to argue, to point out that it took all of them at the table and many more to make it happen, but Jim stopped him with a small shake of his head and a whispered, _“Just agree, Bones”_

Everyone sat but Spock. He stood waiting, until everyone had taken their seat. “I have another announcement to make, if you will indulge me for a bit longer?” He shared a secret glance with Uhura, his lips almost curling up into a smile as he waited for the conversation to cease and all eyes to return to him.

Leonard looked at Jim, and mouthed, _“You know what this is about?”_

Jim shook his head and shrugged his shoulders, so Leonard turned his attention back to Spock.

“As everyone at this table is no doubt aware, we were able to learn who financed the bandits from Daksa Ginting, a Karo-Batak who Jepptha Ramelanputra had recruited, in exchange for leniency. But you may not be aware that action has been taken by the authorities. All of Paradorn Somboonpanyakul’s assets in Indonesia were seized or frozen. The man himself was in his home country of Thailand conducting business at the time of the seizure, so he has not personally been apprehended but our two governments are working out extradition terms. You can be assured that he will pay for his crimes. You see, he had an extensive private collection of antiquities, most of which were obtained illegally through a network of thieves and plunder which he himself financed and directed.”

Chris piped up at this. “I always wondered about Somboonpanyakul. We’ve crossed paths from time to time, especially at art auctions. He had no regard for history or culture. It was always about his ego, about expanding his collection, so this does not surprise me.”

Spock nodded. “Yes. Unlike you, Paradorn Somboonpanyakul seemed to take great delight in the hunt and the ownership of the rare and unique. Our historical treasures were nothing but glorified trophies to him. The museum was brought in to catalog the portion of his collection stored here in Jakarta, and a forensic analysis of his personal laptop computer revealed that he maintained excellent provenance records. We needed to do very little additional work to identify most of the items in his collection. Unfortunately for Mr. Somboonpanyakul, those records also revealed the depths to which he would sink to achieve his ends.”

Spock paused and Leonard looked at him, wondering what the point of all of this was, though he was glad to learn that the unscrupulous businessman would get what was coming to him. Leonard was about to blurt out for Spock to get on with it, when Jim rested his hand on Leonard’s thigh, the weight warm and solid as he shook his head. Leonard relaxed, calmed by Jim’s quiet strength.

Spock leaned over and retrieved a box which he set on the table. He looked up and stared at Leonard. “Although we have not yet completed our work and no doubt will find more artifacts in other places, I have received permission from the minister to offer this as a token of our deep gratitude to you, Doctor McCoy. I believe this is one of your discoveries.” Spock paused and carefully opened the box. He pulled out something swaddled in tissue paper and set it on the table, allowing the paper to fall away.

Leonard blinked and rubbed his eyes. He was looking at the stone idol from Pongdonan. The missing idol from his ill-fated dig. The centerpiece that took two lives and almost cost Leonard his. He couldn’t take his eyes off it. And only when Jim leaned close and whispered, “Breathe,” did he even realize that he had stopped. “I-I… I don’t know what to say. Thank you.” He couldn’t find more words than those heartfelt few.

“It was no hardship to convince the minister. He and I believe that this piece should be with the rest of the Pongdonan idols. It loses historical value in isolation. We greatly appreciate all you have done to defend our cultural history. Allowing you to place this with the others seemed just recompense.”

Spock almost smiled as he took his seat. “And now I believe I have delayed our meal quite long enough. Thank you for your patience.”

As if on cue, servants began bustling around the table, filling plates and refilling wine glasses, breaking the pregnant silence. Leonard was still floored, his eyes unable to move from the idol until Jim gave his thigh another firm squeeze. Leonard dragged his eyes away, turned to Jim, and lost himself in Jim’s bright blue gaze as he leaned close.

Jim whispered, “You okay?” breaking the spell.

Leonard thought for a moment, his eyes flitting around the table, lingering for a moment on each face. He sat back in his chair, quietly stunned at the friends and new life, the sense of wholeness he’d found at Jim’s side.

“Bones?” Jim asked again.

He turned to Jim then, gave him a warm smile and tipped his wine glass to him. “I’m good. Real good, Jim.”

~~*~~

Leonard had feared that the dinner conversation would be stilted, awkward, but Winona and Jim proved near impossible to resist. Their wit and charm soon had even the taciturn Spock joining in and sharing a few clever stories. It had been surprisingly funny to listen to Spock’s removed perspective. His emotionless delivery and dry wit had them all laughing, but the highlight had to have been when Jim managed to tease a slight grin and chuckle from Spock. Jim’s answering smile and sparkling eyes said, “Mission accomplished,” and the evening had been comfortable and effortless from that point on.

And now it was well past midnight and he was strolling barefoot on the beach, holding Jim’s hand. The moon was high in the sky, slipping in and out of the clouds so that the night would dim, its light obscured, until Leonard looked at Jim. Then the world would brighten as though the sun was out. Leonard flushed at such uncharacteristic romantic notions. To hide his blush, he stopped walking and released Jim’s hand, ducking to turn up his pants legs.

Straightening, he grinned at Jim, pulled him further down the beach so that the waves lapped at their ankles as they walked. The clouds closed in and Leonard stopped, turned and tugged Jim to him. He inhaled deeply before kissing him, slow, lingering, and thorough. Jim responded eagerly, wrapped his arms around Leonard’s waist, pressed close, his tongue sweeping possessively inside Leonard’s mouth. When he tried to pull back, Jim followed, lifted a hand to card through Leonard’s hair, holding him in place as his mouth was plundered.

He gasped, breathless, and nipped at Jim’s lower lip, chastising him for the onslaught that left him desperately aroused and weak-kneed. “Jim,” he scolded.

“Hmmm?” Jim purred, as he laved and sucked on Leonard’s neck, his arousal evident as he pushed it against Leonard’s thigh.

“We can’t do this here!” He took a step back, his body protesting the loss of contact. “Your mother’s house is right there!” He pointed behind them.

Jim grinned, stalked forward, tugged Leonard back against him. “So? You think my mom’s looking out her window, watching us? She’s got Chris on his knees begging by now. Trust me, we’re the _last_ thing on her mind.”

“What about Nima?” Leonard felt stupid arguing about this even as his body responded to Jim’s every touch, the soft whisper of breath against his neck, the very scent of Jim heady and arousing.

Jim pulled back and chuckled, his eyes shining as the moon burst from the clouds, turning him into a silver Adonis with piercing blue eyes that took Leonard’s breath away. “Nima gave me a high five in the kitchen, Bones. Told me I better ‘hang on to this one,’ so even if she’s watching, she’d approve.”

Leonard’s chest tightened as Jim’s voice lowered and turned husky. He was impossibly aroused and hopelessly lost, drowning in Jim and loving every moment. “Oh, fuck it!” he growled and tackled Jim, dropping them both to the damp, sandy beach.

Jim went down easily, arms wrapping tightly around Leonard as they lay on the beach, tangled together and kissing endlessly, the moon their only witness.

The waves lapped at his knees and thighs and Leonard squirmed as the cool water chilled his heated flesh. Withdrawing, he propped up on an elbow and smiled at Jim. “Can’t we do this somewhere more comfortable?”

Jim shook his head slowly, his eyes growing more intense as they swept down Leonard’s body hungrily. He felt claimed and devoured and his breath quickened from the heat in Jim’s eyes. He pressed his palm flat against Jim’s chest, but it was too late and he was overbalanced, pushed into the sand with Jim blanketing him.

“Jim!” he objected. “Someone will see!” he hissed.

“It’s the middle of the night on a private beach, Bones. No one’s looking, and even if they were... they’re not going to see anything except two bodies on the sand.” Jim smiled at him, leaned down and tried to kiss him even as his hands were roaming, deftly unbuttoning Leonard’s shirt and palming his quickly chilling skin.

Leonard shook his head. This was different than the beach on Lake Toba and he felt exposed. “Jim... _please._ ”

Jim stopped, a hesitant smile on his face before he started speaking. “Bones, I lost my virginity on this beach. I want to remember it for something better.”

“Better?”

Jim leaned up on his elbows, but his face was still close to Leonard’s. As the moon disappeared behind the clouds, the deserted beach felt remote and isolated, more intimate than when brightly lit.

Jim nodded. “Better. I wasn’t even sixteen. Mom decided that I was acting out, too rebellious for her to handle alone. She decided that we needed to go back to Iowa. _Iowa,_ Bones. Can you imagine what that sounded like to me when I lived here? Hell. Frozen hell.”

Leonard tugged Jim down, rolled them to their sides and bent his knees to get his feet out of the water. “And?”

“I hung around with surfers, guys in the tourist trade... older guys.” He sighed. “And mom hated them. Did everything she could to keep me away from them. It wasn’t enough. Alejandro plied me with booze and buggered me senseless.”

Leonard stiffened, suddenly angry and protective of teenaged Jim. “He date-raped you?”

Jim soothed Leonard with a soft kiss. “Nah. I might have been too young, but I wasn’t stupid. I planned it, Bones. Led Alejandro on; didn’t drink as much as he thought I did. I wanted it. It was my big act of rebellion. I was going to show my mom that I was an adult. Had my own mind. Could do whatever I wanted.”

“Jim,” Leonard’s voice was pained.

“Shhh, Bones. I’m fine. Alejandro’s a nice guy. I still see him around. He’s got kids and a respectable job even.” Jim grinned. “But I want this place to be about you and me.” Jim stilled, his whole face turning serious. “This is my home, part of who I am, and I want to make new memories here... better ones.” He rested his hand on Leonard’s crotch and squeezed his flagging erection. “Let me?” he asked.

And how could Leonard resist? He had never been able to resist Jim; his heated gaze sent all Leonard’s inhibitions out the window, obliterated by shining blue eyes and overwhelming love. Still, Leonard was reluctant. “We’re not fuckin’ on the beach, kid. I still have sand in places I shouldn’t from the last time.”

Jim chuckled, low and deep, and it sent fire dancing up Leonard’s spine, his cock hardening under the simple warmth of Jim’s palm. “Deal. I’ll just blow you here and then fuck your brains out in my room.” Jim levered himself over Leonard and pressed down, their clothed cocks pressing into each other as Jim kissed him, sucked the air from his lungs and sent sparks flying behind his eyelids.

“Jesus, Jim,” Leonard groaned, holding on for dear life. There was nothing else he could do when faced with a determined Jim Kirk. He relaxed back into the warm sand and spread his legs. “Then get to it, Doctor Kirk. Prove to me you know the meaning of the word discreet,” he said, in a husky voice.

Jim smiled ferally and Leonard wondered if challenging a Kirk was such a good idea, but as Jim deftly undid his pants and wrapped a hand around his throbbing erection, his brain frizzled, sparking out. He was arching into Jim’s fist, moaning into his mouth, one hand gripping a muscled bicep while the other tangled in Jim’s hair, holding him close.

He groaned his displeasure when Jim pulled away, only soothed by the barest breath against his neck, “Shhh... I got you, Bones.”

Instead of calming him, Jim’s voice started a firestorm, a flash fire engulfing him as Jim slid down his torso, his lips and tongue fanning the flames until his skin couldn’t contain it and he cried out when Jim swallowed him down. He arched up, barely registered Jim’s choking, but he was shoved back into the sand, held firm as Jim sucked his soul out through his dick.

Jim was talented, too skilled for anyone to last long, and Leonard was gasping and thrashing, bucking up in moments. Jim tilted his head, looked up at him through lowered lashes, then the vibrations of his laughter sent shockwaves rushing through Leonard and he groaned out, “Fuck! Please, goddammit!” With wide eyes, he slammed his forearm over his own mouth, silencing his pleading moans, ignoring the sand in his face.

Jim smiled around his cock, tilted his head down, and promptly proved to Leonard that sand in all the wrong places was more than worth it. He came then, hard, his whole body shuddering as he bowed upward, releasing down Jim’s throat, his stuttered cry echoing in his ears as he sagged, body limp, limbs heavy.

From under half-lidded eyes, he watched, twitching, as Jim lifted his head and swallowed before tucking his head back down and sucking on the softening head of Len’s dick. “Shit!” he hissed. It was too much, too soon. Leonard tried to pull away, to drag himself away from the teasing, evil lips and wicked smile.

Jim smirked up at him, tucked him back into his pants and patted his spent cock through his trousers. “Seems like you were the noisy one, Bones.” He stood, quickly and athletically, straightened his bulging erection, and ran a hand through his hair before offering a hand down to Leonard. “C’mon. I know of a nearby shower and bed.”

Leonard blinked up at Jim. He had to be a sight, sprawled on the beach, legs akimbo, shirt open, trousers rolled up and wet, hair mussed, thoroughly debauched. He waved groggily at Jim without making one bit of effort to move. “You go on ahead, darlin. I ain’t capable of movin’.”

Jim grinned wickedly and captured Leonard’s hand to tug him up. “Ow, ribs, Jim,” Leonard protested.

He swayed, but was undeterred as he wrapped his arms around Jim’s waist, leaned heavily on him and proceeded to devour him. They stayed liked that kissing and holding each other until Leonard’s questing tongue found no more hint of himself and he pulled back, panting lightly. “I’m too old for this shit.”

Jim turned them back toward the house. “Don’t worry, Bones. You won’t have to move a muscle, just spread your legs and take it.”

Leonard swallowed. The dark heat and husky undertones in Jim’s voice were sending sparks down his spine, making his limp cock sit up, and he could do nothing but groan. “You tryin’ to kill me, kid?”

Jim stopped in front of Leonard, met his eyes, and pinned him with a possessive glare. “You’re mine, Leonard McCoy, and I’m going to prove it to you.”

“Jim,” Leonard soothed as he reached out and cupped Jim’s cheek. “I’m yours, you don’t need to go all caveman to prove it. Don’t want anyone else and no one else would put up with my shit even if I did. I love you, you asshole. Now what was this about a shower? And a bed?”

Jim’s eyes softened and he ducked his head, but he was smiling as he chuckled slightly as though embarrassed. “C’mon, Bones. Let’s go make some noise.”

They entered the house quietly; lights had been turned down low, just a few small lamps on tables lit their path up the stairs. Jim tip-toed through the house and Leonard had to fight to keep himself from doing the same. He was a grown man, not some teenager sneaking in after curfew!

But when they got to their rooms on the other side of the house, Jim pushed him into his room and up against the door the instant it was closed. “Jim!” he hissed in protest. “Shh!”

Jim pressed close, his lips sliding up Leonard’s neck to stop at the juncture of neck and jaw. Leonard could not stifle a moan when Jim sucked lightly. “Bones,” he purred. “Changed my mind. Want you to fuck me in my boyhood bed, in my mom’s house, with your former lover here. Want you to make me scream.”

Leonard tried to argue, but his dick loved the idea; he was already half-hard and well on the way to aching and desperate. “Jesus,” he moaned. He then nodded, swallowing thickly. “Shower first.”

Jim smiled, like the cat that caught the canary, and Leonard was struck by how possessive Jim had become. Leonard liked it. He liked it a helluva lot, but it wouldn’t do to encourage Jim’s ego any further so he grumbled as he reached to unbutton the lone button holding his shirt together. “Quit grinning, kid, and start the damned shower.”

Jim reached up and shoved Leonard’s hand away from his shirt. “Uh-uh. I get to undress you. Besides, Nima’ll kill us both if we grind sand and salt into the rug.” He fisted one hand in Leonard’s shirt and dragged him toward the bathroom.

Leonard wanted to argue, but he just didn’t have the energy for it, especially not when he wanted exactly what Jim was suggesting. He found himself in the airy bathroom, pushed up against the counter, Jim backing away slowly. “Just stay there. No touching!”

He watched as Jim entered the spacious walk-in shower and spun the taps; he could have watched Jim’s ass all night but there were much more interesting things to do with that ass. Despite the warmth of the evening, he shivered.

Jim turned around and met Leonard’s eyes, his own were hungry, feral as he began to unbutton his shirt. His eyes swept down Leonard’s body as he casually discarded his shirt and quickly shimmied out of his wet trousers. His cock was hard, almost purple. Jim hadn’t gotten off yet and he had to be hurting.

Leonard licked his lips. “Want me to take care of that, darlin’?” he asked, taking a step forward.

Jim swallowed, his eyes wide and dark, but shook his head. “Not yet,” he gasped, his voice husky.

Leonard could see his chest heaving and he reached out, pulled Jim close, squeezing his ass. “You sure about that?”

“Want to come with you inside me, Bones.”

Leonard nearly came undone at that admission. “Then let’s get on with it. Shower first.”

Jim made short work of getting Leonard’s trousers and boxers off while Leonard worked on the buttons of his shirt; frustrated, he pulled the offending article over his head. Jim laughed. “Anxious, are we?”

“Goddammit, Jim!” he growled. “You can’t tease a man and not expect him to react.”

Jim tugged them forward, sliding the glass behind them so that they were enveloped in the steam. He pushed Leonard under the water which was the perfect temperature. Leonard relaxed into the spray, allowing the heat and moisture to soothe still sore muscles as the water sluiced down his body. He stood there for a few moments, sighing softly, when he smelled coconuts and felt warm palms brushing over his skin.

“Beautiful,” Jim said quietly.

Leonard felt hands glide over his body and he moaned as strong fingers dug into the tight muscles along his shoulders. “God,” he muttered. “I have a new appreciation for hot water and indoor plumbing.”

Jim chuckled and continued to push and prod the knots along his shoulders and back until Leonard had to lean against the shower wall. “Jim... you keep this up, I’ll be useless.”

“Just want to make you feel good,” Jim murmured and pressed his body against Leonard’s back; the soap was slick between them and Jim’s hard cock slotted in between Bones’ cheeks. Jim hissed as Leonard arched back.

Jim continued to work on Leonard’s lower back muscles, slowly teasing the tension out of them. Leonard closed his eyes, enjoying the feel of cool tiles on his chest and arms, Jim’s thick cock sliding enticingly against him, the heat of the water and Jim’s body close to his. “Jim,” he finally said, “enough.”

Jim’s lips rested at the base of his neck as he murmured, “Never enough, Bones. Something could have happened to you. Just let me....”

Leonard’s heart swelled. Jim might not have said the words, but he’d made it quite clear how he felt and now it was so obvious in his every touch. He nodded, tamped down his arousal, silently relaxed and let Jim take care of him.

Another scent filled his nostrils, this was sharp and bright, citrusy. Jim began to scrub his scalp, washing his hair and Leonard couldn’t contain his moan. He lifted his head from his arms, giving Jim better access and receiving a firm scalp massage along with the shampoo. Jim nudged him back into the water stream, the bubbles washing away with Jim’s careful attention.

Leonard reached for Jim, but his hands were gently pushed away. “Later. Tonight is about you.”

The smell of coconuts joined the citrus as calloused palms slid over Leonard’s torso, each bruise and scrape was lingered over, lovingly mapped until Leonard was urged fully under the stream of water, its warmth flushing away the bubbles from his skin.

Jim had lulled him into a stupor; made him relaxed and languid, so it was unexpected when Jim’s lips closed over one of his nipples and bit down. Hard enough for Leonard’s eyes to fly open and him to cry out, “Shit!.”

Leonard looked down and met Jim’s mischievous eyes. “Can’t have you falling asleep on me, Bones. The night’s still young.”

Before Leonard could push Jim away, he was forced against the shower wall, Jim’s hard cock pushing against his hip and Jim’s hands holding him down. Leonard’s half-hard erection perked up fully, its attention invested in the proceedings.

Jim chuckled darkly, “You like being restrained, huh? Might have to investigate that little tidbit of information more in depth next time.”

“Jim, if you don’t fuckin’ get a move on, there won’t be a next time!”

Jim ignored Leonard and merely leaned forward, his tongue lapping at the scar on Leonard’s chest. He turned his head and rested his cheek on the scar, the permanent reminder of his near-death experience. “I could have lost you before I ever knew I was looking for you.”

Jim’s voice choked off on the last words and Leonard pulled him up, clasped him tightly as he sealed their lips together. Jim surged up into the kiss, met him and held on for dear life until they were both panting and gasping for breath. “Enough, Jim.”

Jim reached around him and turned the taps off. Without a word he opened the door and stepped out, pulling two towels off of the nearby rack and handed one to Leonard.

The towel was warm as Leonard ran it over his wet body. He watched Jim, his eyes raking over the lightly tanned skin, lingering on the small scrapes and bruises on the otherwise flawless flesh. He tossed the towel aside and reached for Jim, wrapping him snugly as he turned. “What was it you said? You wanted me to fuck you? Still want that? Still want me to make you scream, Jim?”

All breath whooshed from Jim’s lungs before he pressed his lips to Leonard’s by way of response; he didn’t try to deepen it, just kept a steady, warm pressure as he took Leonard’s hands in his and walked them slowly in to the bedroom. Once there he took Leonard’s face in his hands, and then pulled back, staring at him intently.

“Jim?” Leonard finally asked after several seconds passed. He slid his fingers through Jim’s wet hair, rubbing the back of his head slowly.

Jim leaned into his touch, his gaze never wavering. He bit his lip, considering, and then surged forward; he kissed Leonard gently and then swallowing, nodded his head. “I love you, Bones. Thought you should know...”

Leonard replied by seizing Jim’s lips in a desperate, hungry kiss. Jim responded eagerly, met him halfway, one hand cupping Leonard’s head, the other squeezing his ass.

The kiss was long and hard, would have been bruising, except they were both well aware of still-healing injuries and managed to keep away from the sore spots. Leonard had to tip his nose away from Jim’s still-swollen one. Even at a slightly awkward angle, he was unwilling to part from Jim’s incredible lips, Jim’s tongue doing wicked things to his mouth.

With sweetly short kisses, Jim did end it, but not before he maneuvered them to the foot of his bed. Without breaking eye contact, he climbed onto it, pulling Leonard with him, and then gently crumpling them both into the soft pillows. “Bones,” he whispered, eyes wide and nakedly showing so much of himself, his hand tracing Leonard’s face, his cheekbones, his jaw. “Love you.”

He leant in and pressed his lips to Leonard’s again. It quickly deepened, became more intense; Leonard rolled them slowly together so that Jim was mostly on his back, taking charge, opening his mouth and tongue fucking Jim with sure, steady strokes. Jim moaned; Leonard almost smiled at that. He felt Jim’s hand stroking his chest, touching his bullet scar, tweaking his nipple. Shards of pleasure shot through him, making his stomach flutter in anticipation and his dick twitch. For the first time since they’d been together, Leonard felt free, free to explore Jim’s body with abandon, to make him squirm with need, to bring him to the brink over and over again until they both were desperate.

“Jim, where’s the--” Leonard whispered; Jim pulled a tube and a strip of condoms out from under his pillow before he could finish. That made Leonard smile.

“Brought them with me from home, Bones,” Jim said, his fingertips resting on Leonard’s hard and pebbled nipple.

Leonard drew in a ragged breath as Jim tweaked his nipple. “Confident of getting laid, were you?”

Jim kissed him. “I was hoping,” he whispered, his eyes shining. “Hoping you’d finally get a clue.”

“I got it,” Leonard said, and captured his mouth in a sizzling kiss.

Jim arched up into him, pressed their bodies together as he wrapped one leg around Leonard’s calf. His hands were everywhere, warm, sure, caressing and teasing and Leonard couldn’t help the needy moan that issued from his lips. He growled and surged over Jim, pressing him to the mattress, intent on Jim’s nipple when he leaned wrong and his battered ribs met with Jim’s elbow. He squawked, loudly and pulled back, cursing.

Jim sat up, followed him, ran soothing hands over his sides, frowning. “You okay?”

Leonard sucked in a harsh breath and nodded. “Not as healed up as I thought. Shit.” He flopped gingerly to the bed.

Jim leaned over him, rested his lips on his scar and then began to run his lips gently over Leonard’s skin. “Then we’ll just have to take it slow and easy. Savor it.”

A tremor ran down Leonard’s spine from the hungry look in Jim’s eyes. He nodded, “Slow and easy... yeah.” His voice was gravelly as he turned on his side, aligning their bodies so that he could explore at leisure, map out all the places that made Jim squirm.

They fit perfectly, from their entwined legs to their lips sealed together, aligned and in sync. As their hips gyrated, their cocks rubbing, Leonard squeezed Jim’s ass. Jim bucked into him, sending flares off behind his eyelids.

“Dammit, Jim,” he growled, but he was no less desperate. He fumbled for the lube and managed to wrap his fingers around the tube, just as Jim wrapped clever fingers around his cock. He pulled back, took a shaky breath, and said, “Hold on, hold on.”

“Want you, Bones.” Jim’s need-laced voice made Leonard gasp.

“You got me... give me a sec.”

Leonard was fumbling with the lube when warm hands took the tube from him. “Let me.”

Jim bent his knees, pushing his ass and hard cock away from Leonard who was about to protest the loss of friction when, instead, he was forced to take a stuttering breath at the sight of Jim pushing two lube-slick fingers into himself. “Fuuuuuck,” was all he managed as he dropped the condom and scrambled to snag it, his eyes focused on Jim’s puckered entrance.

He ripped the package with his teeth and slid the condom onto his rock-hard dick with shaky hands. He was near insensate with want and desire, didn’t remember ever wanting someone this bad, not even when he was a hormonal teen. “Jim,” he rasped out and rested a hand on Jim’s wrist.

Jim lifted his head, and Leonard was suddenly drowning, drawn forward and down. He kissed Jim then, tried to convey all the overwhelming emotions that were coursing through him. He snagged the lube and slicked himself as he pulled Jim’s fingers from his body.

Without words they shifted, Jim was about to turn over, but Leonard stopped him. It wouldn’t be the best angle, but he couldn’t bear to not look into Jim’s eyes and face. He wanted to see him, to know him completely, to watch as he came undone. Jim tilted his pelvis forward as Leonard lifted his thigh. Jim reached down, bared himself and Leonard pushed forward, groaning as he was drawn in, surrounded by tight heat, Jim’s muscles clenching around him.

Jim was tight and Leonard took it slowly, had to fight to keep from thrusting all the way in. “Fuck! You’re tight!” he gasped out.

Jim’s eyes were scrunched shut and he nodded, his breathing hard and fast. It was obvious he was fighting to relax.

Leonard stilled, worked to keep his hips from thrusting as he leaned forward and brushed his lips over Jim’s. “C’mon, darlin’, relax, let me in.”

Jim let go of his thigh and wrapped his arms around Leonard, all breath whooshing from him at once.

The changed angle made Jim even tighter and ripped a pleasured cry from Leonard. “Fuck! Been awhile?”

Jim nodded, opening his eyes as Leonard bottomed out. “Yeah, I top, usually.” His voice was strained as he wriggled his hips, making Leonard see stars with each movement, the clench and flutter of his passage wringing moans from Leonard.

“This ain’t gonna take long if you keep doin’ that.”

“Sorry.” But when Leonard pulled out and thrust in steadily again, Jim’s eyes rolled back into his head. “Oh, God, Bones. Do that again.”

Leonard closed his eyes as he shifted his hands to find a more comfortable stance and leverage; once there, he did exactly as Jim asked, kept the same angle and Jim arched to meet him, thrust for thrust. Jim made a high-pitched whine, reached up, and cupped Leonard’s head, and pulled him in for a bruising kiss.

Jim’s body tightened further and Leonard’s deep groan was stolen by Jim’s wicked tongue. Their limbs were entwined, wrapped up in each other, welded together as Leonard’s thrusts increased in intensity, harder and irregular as his orgasm coiled in his core. He was on the brink, his whole body a mass of sensation, fiery sparks lit his spine, danced off his skin, and cascaded over them.

Jim suddenly threw his head back, crying out, “Bones!” as warmth erupted between them, and Leonard was overcome. Jim’s body clamped down on him and he thrust once, buried himself as deeply as possible as he released, the world shattering in a kaleidoscope of color and light. Leonard collapsed, everything sensitive and raw, his emotions flung open and exposed, but somehow that wasn’t terrifying. It felt right like never before and he melted into the bed, sated and lethargic.

Without realizing that he’d zoned out, Leonard was suddenly brought back to awareness by a wet cloth swiping at him. He blinked and met Jim’s bright eyes. Jim made debauched look downright adorable and Leonard lifted heavy arms to tug him down to his chest. “Fuck me, Jim.”

Jim tossed the cloth somewhere, dragged the coverlet over them and settled into Leonard’s arms, his lips settling on the bullet scar. “In the morning,” Jim said sleepily. “Don’t think I could get it up again, even for you.”

Leonard’s arms tightened and he issued a soft, contented sigh as his eyes drifted shut. “Yeah, me, too. Love you,” he murmured.

Jim’s answering, “Love you, too, Bones,” was the last thing he heard.

~~*~~

Leonard stirred; his eyes blinked open and then slammed shut at the bright sunshine streaming in his window. Jim grumbled and burrowed deeper into his side. He wiggled closer to Jim and was about to drift off again, when an insistent knock and voice sounded from the door.

“Doctor McCoy? Leonard? It is past noon. Are you unwell?”

Poornima! Leonard started up, his movements waking Jim, who lifted his head and looked at him with groggy eyes. “It’s Poornima, Jim!” he hissed in a bare whisper.

“Shit!” Jim ducked down, pulling the coverlet over his head.

Leonard blinked and stared at the blanket, bemused. He was not awake enough for this. When he realized that the door handle was turning, he shouted out, “I’m fine! Still in bed!”

The door opened and Nima gave him a positively wicked smile. “I am a grandmother and raised four boys of my own, Leonard. You have nothing that I have not seen. And neither does Jim.”

Leonard scrambled and dragged the comforter up to his neck. “Wha’?”

She was carrying a tray, which she set on the table before throwing the curtains wide and opening the French doors to allow in more of the sea breeze.

“I have brought you coffee and a light meal. You both are still healing and need to eat well.”

“Both?” Leonard sat in bed, stiff as a board, hoping that Poornima did not come closer.

She turned from the window, her hands on her hips, an all-too knowing smile on her lips. She knew exactly what was going on and Leonard felt a warm flush creep up his neck. “Just make sure you get out of bed and eat soon, Leonard. You need to keep your strength up.”

“Th-thank you, ma’am,” he stuttered out, trying not to react to Jim’s soft breath huffing against his hip.

She nodded as she moved to the door, “You are most welcome, Leonard.”

Leonard swallowed, his eyes widening as Jim’s hand slid up his inner thigh. His muscles twitched and he could do nothing.

“And, Leonard, it is a beautiful day for a walk and a picnic on the beach. I have taken the liberty of making Jimmy’s favorites. Everything is packed in a hamper and waiting.” She winked at him as she closed the door. “And, Jimmy, please give me credit for knowing you better than that!”

Jim sat up, tossing the comforter off, and glared at the door.

Leonard laughed. Jim’s hair was bed tousled and he was pouting. Leonard couldn’t resist. Their coffee was stone cold before they made it out of bed, but the picnic on a beautiful Indonesian beach was perfect.


	7. EPILOGUE & Authors' Notes/Thanks

_Three Years Later...._

Jim pulled the bike helmet off his head and shrugged out of the backpack. He entered the kitchen through the back door, and dumped them both on the kitchen table. “Hey, Bones, I’m home!” he called out. No answer, but he heard the dulcet tones of the NPR host coming from the living room. “Bones?” he called a little louder. He stopped by the fridge, opened the door and pulled out a cold beer. He threw the cap into the bowl on top of the microwave, and walked into the hallway.

“In here, Jim.”

Jim smiled at the sound of his partner’s voice. He was glad to see him after a very long day of lectures and students and a totally useless faculty meeting. Returning to his academic appointment and the classroom at Berkeley had been a satisfying decision, but sometimes the university politics grated on him. “Hey, what’s for dinner? Isn’t it your turn to cook?” He was so eager to see Leonard that he stumbled over the box in the front hall. “Hey, what’s this?”

Leonard came out of the office and slouched in the doorway. “Look at it,” he said grinning.

Jim spun around and looked at the return address, then gave a loud whoop. “Oh my god, it’s here!” Jim looked up at Leonard again. “Why didn’t you open it?”

“Didn’t seem right to do so without you.” He handed Jim his pocket knife. “Here, do the honors.”

Jim took the knife, but pulled Leonard in for a kiss hello. “How’s your day been?”

“Oh, not too bad. Got the first part of the fifth chapter written anyway.” He watched as Jim sliced through the packing tape.

The flaps opened and Jim pulled out the top copy of the book. “Oh wow,” he breathed. “I’ve seen this photo of Bhavneshwari a hundred times, but it looks fantastic on the cover.” He ran his hand over the colorful slipcover of the hardback _In the Temple of the Divine Shakti_. “‘James T. Kirk, Leonard H. McCoy, and S'chn T'gai Spock.’ Hey, they put my name first.”

“Come on. We agreed it would be alphabetical.” Leonard pinched the beer bottle from Jim’s hand and took a sip. “Hmm... publisher used a different font for the titles.”

“That’s the least of our concerns.” Jim was reading the summaries and advance reviews on the back cover. “Wow, Boyce gave us a really nice comment.”

“Of course he did. You’re his golden boy, Jim,” Leonard said. “I knew that, by the way. He sent me an email after he read the first draft.”

“He did?” Jim opened the back cover. “Oh.”

“Oh?” Leonard stepped closer. “Oh. There’s no photograph of Spock! What, the bastard couldn’t be bothered to send Oxford Press a damn photo?”

“Not that, us.”

“Oh.” Leonard’s forehead crinkled. “That’s not the photo we chose for our author bios.”

They gazed at a photo Christine had snapped of them when the camp was still in chaos and there’d been no time to breathe, let alone wash. They were covered in mud and blood: Jim with one arm in a mud-covered blue cast and his nose swollen to twice its size, was standing with his arm around Leonard’s shoulders, and Leonard with his blackened eye and cradling the golden statue in one hand, his arm about Jim’s waist. They were grinning broadly. “It’s a nice one,” Jim said softly. “Our triumphant recovery.”

“‘Revenge of the nerds’ is what we should title that photo. Never fuck with an archaeologist who’s determined to keep his quarry,” Leonard quipped. He came to stand behind Jim, and wrapped his arms around his waist, his chin resting on Jim’s shoulder. “That was a helluva day. You saved my life,” he said quietly.

Jim shook his head. “You saved yourself that day, Bones. I was just on mop-up detail.”

“That’s not what I mean,” Leonard said, kissing the tender spot under Jim’s ear. “That day... everything changed, Jim. Obliterated the past. I'll never forget it. And, after... it was--”

“The first time you told me you loved me,” Jim finished. He looked up at his once hero, now partner in everything. “That's something _I'll_ never forget.”

“Me neither.” And he kissed Jim. _And not just for all that, but for allowing me to find my courage, my work, my life again_. The kiss quickly deepened, promising so much more, but Leonard broke it off with several small nips which made Jim moan. “Sorry, but we have somewhere to be tonight,” Leonard said.

Jim’s eyes were glazed over. “Wait...” He blinked several times. Leonard loved to watch as Jim’s mind shifted gears. “What?”

“It’s something of a surprise, but Christine let it slip today,” Leonard said, smiling. “In honor of the book coming out and the new exhibit opening, Pike is throwing us a dinner at the museum. _The Padang_ is catering and everyone’s going to be there, including Joanna.”

“Oh. _Oh_! Nice choice. Is--”

“Spock came in on an early flight yesterday morning.” Leonard walked back into their home office to retrieve his jacket. “Haven’t see Nyota since.”

Jim shook his head, chuckling. “They are the most unlikely likable couple ever. I mean, the guy is all right, but what the _hell_ does she see in him?”

“They say the same thing about you and me, you know.”

“No. They don’t. They see two hot archaeologists--one blond, one brunette. One awesome, one grumpy.”

“One modest, one so full of shit. . . .”

“Hey!”

“Go comb your hair,” Leonard said, giving Jim a shove towards the stairs to their bedroom. “And put on a clean shirt.” He pulled on his jacket as he watched Jim’s ass wriggle as he climbed the steps. “And you might consider jeans that don’t cling to your ass so tightly.”

“You love my ass,” Jim called down.

“I do. And I wanna keep it all to myself. I’m a possessive bastard. What can I say?” Leonard looked at himself in the small hallway mirror. “And hurry up! We need to swing by and pick up Jo.”

~~*~~

The conversation around him was a quiet buzz. Leonard took another sip of wine as he leaned back in the chair, comfortably satisfied. The dinner was superb; their friends at The Padang outdid themselves with a gorgeous buffet of Sumatran dishes. Winona had brought a plate of homemade sweet potato and coconut fritters that he loved so much. Joanna was laughing with Jim, who was writing on a napkin; no doubt he was teaching her another insult in Batak. _She’s become so beautiful,_ he thought. _And tall, smart, and such a teenager._

Joanna and Jim had taken to each other immediately when they met after Jim and Leonard’s return from Sumatra three years ago. They had in the intervening years become co-conspirators in making Leonard’s life a living hell: surprise parties for his birthday, outrageous Christmas gifts, spontaneous weekends together doing things he never thought he’d do. The Las Vegas trip was the absolute height of their combined lunacy, but he had to admit he had had more fun than he thought possible in a city he never, ever wanted to visit, probably because he was with the two people he loved most.

Now, he found himself smiling at them. Jim looked up and gave him a brilliant smile in return. _Love you_ , he mouthed, and went back to showing his daughter something he’d written on the paper napkin.

“Dr. McCoy,” Spock said to Leonard, “when do you anticipate returning to the temple site this fiscal year?”

“Don’t you mean when are we gonna have enough money to fly your girlfriend back for an extended visit to Jakarta?” Leonard replied.

“Actually, Nyota can visit any time she pleases,” Spock said smoothly. Nyota had to hide her smile behind her hand, one that wore a sparkling gold and diamond ring. “She will be returning with me next week after the gala opening of the new exhibit and the lecture series at Berkeley.”

“Sweetie, I think Leonard is yanking your chain,” Nyota said gently. “Leonard, really.”

“Yes, really.” But he smiled broadly at them. “Spock, have you been able to recover all of the artifacts that had been stolen by that bastard?”

“If you are referring to Paradorn Somboonpanyakul, the answer is no. We know of one cache in a compound he owns on a private island in Micronesia. We have not yet been able to gain access.”

“Then how do you know about it?” Leonard asked.

“It seems that besides being an engineer, your Montgomery Scott is quite deft with computers. He provided us with the evidence we needed.”

“He what?”

“He hacked into the guy’s business network,” Nyota said.

“I did no such thing!” Scotty said, from Leonard’s left, leaning across Christine. “The guy dinnae have a proper firewall on his network security. I merely had a look-see around.”

“That’s kind of the definition of hacking, Scotty,” Christine said, laying a hand on his arm.

“But I dinnae do anything!” Scotty said, protesting.

“No, you just downloaded his database.”

“And wha’ harm did that do? As I recall, you were the one sitting there at me side searching through the files, Chrissie. You said, and I quote, ‘These don’t belong to him so we’re technically not stealing from him. We’re just gettin’ back what rightfully belongs to the people of Indonesia.’ Hey, I am all for that!”

They laughed; well, Spock didn’t, but everyone around them did. Christine kissed Scotty soundly. Two years of marriage had not dimmed their bright, giddy passion for each other. Upon her return from the expedition, she sought the Scot out, told him she loved him, that he made her laugh and that she wanted to laugh for the rest of her life. It didn’t take anything more than that for Scotty to get on board. Their courtship was public, hilarious and filled with so much love. Leonard was Christine’s Man of Honor in a beautiful, fun wedding that took place in the Museum’s garden just six months later. “So all those times I couldn’t find you two,” Nyota had joked with Christine, “you were down in the boiler room making out?”

Leonard looked around at all the people who had made the past three years possible: Chris, at the head of the table, kissing his new wife’s hand. That Winona and he married was not a surprise at all; Leonard had never seen him more happy, more satisfied. Kavi and her husband were chatting happily with Uhura and Spock. Pavel Chekov, now a full-fledged assistant curator under Leonard, laughed at a joke told by Hikaru Sulu, the curator of the Asian collection at the Hearst Museum.

The dinner was a wonderful, warm event for the staff of the Pike Museum and their close colleagues from the Museum Nasional Jakarta. Tomorrow, several of the diggers from the small village down from the mountain of the Toba Shakti site would join them for the grand opening of the exhibit of the artifacts found there and the launch of the book from the same. It had been a long journey for everyone, but it was one marked by extraordinary bravery and strong friendships.

Leonard stood and stretched. He wandered unobtrusively around the table and into the building, ostensibly to find the facilities. Afterwards, he ambled into the main exhibit hall which was lit only with the security lights; he knew the security system had not been armed so he slowly wended his way to the new wing.

Scotty and Chris had had an additional exhibit room built onto the old mansion, just to highlight the Sumatra expedition finds. It was absolutely gorgeous: a state-of-the-art and architecturally appropriate space, it captured the beauty and the feel of an ancient Hindu temple. Though they will probably never know how the obliterated temple actually looked, the continuing dig unearthed a much larger building than they originally predicted. Though no more artistic artifacts had been uncovered, the site was still actively being worked and studied.

Jim and he worked at the temple site as often as possible. Leonard’s time was easier to arrange since the Pike Museum continued as a full partner, mostly in a fundraising capacity, and Leonard was technically still the site curator, though he ceded control to Spock and the Provincial Museum of North Sumatra’s capable staff. But when the Museum sent their diggers to the Toba Shakti site to work for several months of the year, Leonard and Jim always planned their vacation time to go. Last year, they worked during the muggy, hot summer months so that Joanna could go with them. She had worked incredibly hard and had a blast. She was determined to master the Batak dialect, and was seriously considering majoring in Asian studies. Her mother saw the wisdom, finally, of allowing Joanna the freedom to visit her father whenever she pleased, and that had resulted in pushing Leonard and Jim to purchase a proper house in between the city and Berkeley.

And Jim-- _Jim_. Leonard still shook his head every time he ruminated on their unlikely romance, finding in the younger man a true companion and soul-mate. As he stood before the exhibit with the large photographs of them holding the statues, digging out the site after the disastrous mudslide, working alongside the Batak diggers, Jim’s expression of complete wonder as he opened the ceramic box holding the tree bark and bamboo documents, and then seeing the artifacts in the cases--it was a wonderment to him. _How much life can change in such a short time._

He flipped on the lights and then wandered over to the new exhibit that Jim had mounted right before they left for the expedition. _The Extraordinary Career of Leonard McCoy, PhD_ had been retitled to read simply _The Pongdonan Idols_. Photographs of Jillian and Brad that had been taken during the expedition stood alongside the completed ring of carved stone figures. His book, _their_ book, on ancient worship would be finished in the coming year.

“Thought I might find you here.”

Leonard didn’t turn around, but felt Jim’s arms come around him from behind, pulling him close. His head fell against Jim’s shoulder as they looked at the idols. “I just needed--”

“I know, Bones. But I missed you.” Jim took Leonard’s left hand in his, his thumb rubbing along the knife scar. Jim whispered. “Can’t get along unless you’re there.”

Leonard learned long ago to not scoff at Jim’s romantic declarations. Truth be told, he needed Jim just as much; Jim was his light in a dark world.

Then, Jim spun him slowly away, but didn’t let go of the hand he held. He held Leonard’s gaze and smiled sweetly. “Bones--Leonard,” he said softly. “You are my sun and my stars. I never thought I’d ever find anyone who would make me want to stay in one place, make me want to love just one person. And wouldn’t you know it had to be a curmudgeon like you that could make me do both? Sometimes, I kinda hate you for it.”

Leonard’s eyebrow quirked up. “Never asked you to do that, Jim.”

“You didn’t have to. Just being here, just loving _me_ is all it took. So”--Jim took a deep breath--”I think it’s time we do something about it. Make this something more.” He switched to Indonesian: " _With all of my love and all of my heart, I ask you to marry me, to live with me, to love me as I do you._ "

Leonard felt his heart skip a beat. "Jim?"

" _Marry me?_ "

Without thought, Leonard gathered Jim to him, and pressing their foreheads together he swayed with Jim in time with the beating of their hearts for several seconds. He breathed, “Oh, darlin’, of course.” He tugged Jim’s head back enough to skim his lips over Jim’s, reveling in their softness. Jim’s tongue swiped against his teeth and rolled its way into his mouth. Jim tasted of curry and cinnamon and red wine, of laughter and desire. Their kiss only inspired Leonard to pull him closer, to never want to let go of this beautiful man ever. A cleared throat and a giggle brought his attention back to reality.

“Perhaps you’d like to share with us, Len, why you and Jim are necking like teenagers in my exhibit hall?” Chris Pike asked. Winona was smiling from inside his embrace.

“Go on, Jim,” Joanna prompted. “Tell him.”

Looking into the faces of all his colleagues, his beloved _friends_ , Leonard said, “Looks like there’s gonna be at least one more wedding in the garden, Chris.”

“We’re engaged!” Jim said.

A cheer went up from the assembly as they rushed towards them. Leonard grabbed Joanna and swung her around in a hug. “Daddy!” she demanded. “Put me down! I’m too old to be swung around like a little kid!”

“Never in a million years,” he said, kissing her cheek. “And how did you know about this?”

“Well, who do you think Jim asked for permission for your hand?” Like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Accepting the congratulations and hugs of everyone there, Jim wrapped his arm around Leonard’s waist, refusing to let him go. As their friends wandered away, one by one, leaving them in front of the evidence of their greatest triumph and his redeemed failure, Leonard McCoy felt the last bit of his world slip into place, and was at peace.

“Hey, Bones,” Jim asked quietly, “what’s that?”

Leonard pulled his mind back from the pleasant land of Jim-love, and looked where Jim’s finger was leading. “Hmm? What’s what?”

“That...that dark place up the mountainside?”

Leonard unwound his arm from Jim’s body, and stepped closer to the exhibit case and the photographs of the Pongdonan site. The photo was an aerial view of the plateau and surrounding mountains where the University of Georgia team had worked in conjunction with the South Sumatra Museum of Science. Jim was pointing to a series of cliffs and dark spaces. “I’m sure it’s just the light, Jim. There’s nothing there.”

“Look, there are no paths to this part of the mountain,” Jim said, peering closely at the photo. “And these indentations are too perfect; they’re spaced evenly all along this cliff face.”

Leonard stared at the mountain for a long moment, thinking carefully about the area and everything he knew about it. “Nothing comes to mind about this part of the mountain. Maybe--”

“Hey, Spock!” Jim called. “Could you come look at something?”

Spock, Uhura, Chris and Christine all came striding back into the exhibit hall. “Dr. Kirk?” Spock queried. “You require assistance?”

“We do,” Jim said. “Take a look at the mountain in this photo.”

Spock peered closely at the photograph. “Are those--”

“Caves? Crevices?” Jim prompted, leaning over the railing to press his nose against the glass.

“For god’s sake, Jim,” Nyota said, pulling on Jim’s belt, “you’re smudging the case.”

“So, I’ll clean it tomorrow.”

Spock walked away and returned shortly, holding his iPad. “According to our database of archaeological and historical sites,” he said, “this is not listed as one.”

Jim and Leonard looked at each other, looked at Spock--who responded with a raised eyebrow, then looked at Chris, who was looking at Winona.

They grinned.

“South Sumatra in the spring?” Jim said. “I’m there.”

“I’m in,” Leonard said.

“If you don’t let me go along this time, I’m gonna hurt you,” Nyota said, punching Jim in the arm playfully.

“Chris?” Leonard asked.

Chris hugged Winona closer. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he said with a smile, “let’s punch it.”

 

The End

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author’s Notes & Thanks:  
We must confess that we are not archaeologists; so to any archaeologists out there, we apologize if we didn’t get things just right. Feel free to share your professional criticisms with us. And while I (abigail89) am an archivist and curator for a small historical museum, this was my concept of how a small archaeological/anthropological museum would operate. Again, feel free to share your professional criticisms with us. Neither of us have ever visited Sumatra; we just like the coffee. That said, we did a hell of a lot of research for this project. The main source for our information about Sumatran archaeological and cultural history was _Sumatra: Crossroads of Culture_ , edited by Francine Brinkgreve and Retno Sulistianingsi (KITLV Press, Leiden 2009), staff of the Museum Nasional, Jakarta, Indonesia and the Royal Netherlands Institute of Southeast Asian and Caribbean Studies, The Netherlands (Sumatra was once a Dutch colony.) There are only four copies of this book in the United States available for loan through WorldCat. My thanks to my employer for allowing me to use our interlibrary loan service.

We also used a lot of web sources for our information.  
http://www.southernsun.info/  
http://www.kasi-bali.com/2008/11/archaeology-in-bali/  
http://banda-archaeology.blogspot.com/2009/01/from-bali-to-banda.html  
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Archaeology  
http://www.archaeology.org/9703/etc/specialreport.html  
http://www.kitlv.nl/pdf_documents/asia-sumatra.pdf  
http://www.britannica.com/EBchecked/topic-art/285876/1996/The-Indian-Ocean-with-depth-contours-and-undersea-features  
http://www.sanfrancisco.com/weather/  
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lampung  
http://traumwerk.stanford.edu/archaeolog/2008/03/hero_real_archaeology_and_indi.html  
And a whole host of others we accessed on the fly.

A word about Indonesian names: Most Indonesians do not have or use family names. They’re identified by their tribal associations. However, that’s a little difficult to work with in a fictional setting, so we elected to use the more modern practice and assigned our Indonesian characters family names. The name ‘Ramelan’ is a last name, but ‘Ramelanputra’ means _son of Ramlelan_ , reflecting Indian influence, and would be the legal name. Globalization is not a new concept to the peoples of Pacific Rim nations; they have been sharing each others’ cultures for thousands of years.

My love and thanks to my friend and co-conspirator in this incredible creative journey, weepingnaiad. She thought up the original idea of setting these beloved characters in the world of archaeology, and innocently asked me what a curator does. That, as they say, was that.

And this from weepingnaiad: I am not an archaeologist or an archivist. Without abigail89’s influence, dedication, hard work, and many, many weeks of writing, this story would not be grounded in the reality that it most definitely is. Seriously, this could be happening even now as I type somewhere on the Indonesian archipelago. I am in complete awe of my co-writer’s talent and creativity, not to mention her amazing ability to pull up all these facts and resources and weave them effortlessly into the story. So much so, that you won’t even be able to recognize all the little details she has woven in to make this such a rich tapestry. This was such a joy to do, to see the story unfold and be surprised at what ideas we came up with, separately and together.

I’ve always been enamored of the Asian cultures: Indian, Thai, Indonesian, Malay, etc. This has been a fascinating and fun journey and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it.

There are not enough words to express our thanks to aome for betaing this story for us. She’s not really in the ST fandom, yet she cheerfully took on the task of editing this monster for us. Thank YOU, Thank YOU, Thank YOU!!! <3 & ♥

On 26 October 2010 an earthquake triggered a tsunami that hit the western shore of North Sumatra province and the islands off its coast. At the same time on the island of Java, Mt. Merapi, a volcano, erupted, destroying small villages at its base. We grieve for the loss of life and the physical destruction done to these beautiful places in Indonesia. We encourage you to remember the victims of these natural tragedies and to make a donation for Indonesian aid to your preferred disaster relief agency. _Requiem aeterna_


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